Death Is Not Goodbye
by IronEclipse
Summary: Shinigami are disappearing. Fading away, like whispered words rapidly spoken into the wind. There are no explantations for the mysterious departures. None. As time passes, circumstances become more severe. Those residing in Soul Society are left to ponder the true nature of the issue at hand. How much life will remain when the battle concludes? Slight AU. IchiRuki.
1. Chapter 1

_'Here together, friends forever.  
__Some things were just mean't to be, and that's you and me.'  
__~Winnie The Pooh_

* * *

Ichigo observed Rukia from a moderately safe distance. She was sprawled across his mattress languidly, her small and slender legs twisted crookedly within the safe confinements of his starchy white sheets. She appeared to be trapped, much like a fly caught dangerously in the spindly threads of a spiders web. The thought amused the red headed teen, although Rukia did not resemble a meagre bug in the slightest.

_She was twitching_. Each sporadic movement she made was rather startling, for every limb upon her petite frame shook with a fierce wrath. Her legs swung around in a synchronized motion under the sheets. Her hands avidly squirmed restlessly above his pillow.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Rukia turned her raven haired head around slowly. An expression of pure distaste decorated her fragile features. Ichigo winced slightly. Rukia looked as if she was on the cusp of irrupting in flames. He knew that she hated when he mindlessly bothered her. However, his question appeared to be relatively harmless. None the less, he instantly regretted his inquiry.

"What do you think I am doing? _Having a snooze?"_

The woman snorted and sighed exasperatedly. She appeared to be heavily contemplating the teen's crude remark. Her eyebrows were poised in an awkward position. It was as if she had recently shoved a particularly sour lemon in her mouth. Her violet eyes glowed with annoyance and her lips were formed into a crooked scowl.

Ichigo rolled his eyes and slammed his textbook down loudly. The wooden surface of his desk quivered and shook violently, teetering precariously from the impact of the large book. It appeared as if the thing was experiencing a small earth quake. All of the pencils and tools placed upon the worn out table cascaded through the air momentarily before landing harshly on the ground.

"Rukia?" Ichigo whispered quietly.

A small, indecisive part of the boy resisted the urge to call out her name. Bad things tended to occur when her short title slipped through his lips. She usually lashed out randomly, throwing objects at his head for the joy of it. Crude insults were occasionally tossed around as well.

After a moment of agonized silence, the boy groaned and threw his hands up desperately in the air. It appeared as if the violet eyed midget had decided to ignore his important question. She began shaking violently again, as if an invisible swarm of hornets were attempting to attack her trembling form.

"Hello? Midget! _What are you doing!?"_

Rukia growled in irritation, before viciously chucking a recently sharpened pencil at Ichigo's stupefied face. It flew through the air in a series of elegant spirals, twirls, and twists, creating a seemingly choreographed dance of pure violence. The utensil harshly bounced off of the red head's tanned skin and clattered onto the hardwood floor. The small woman suddenly laughed. Her high pitched peals of delight rang throughout the room at an incredible pace.

"WHAT WAS THAT FOR!"

"Your stupidity obviously." Rukia stated smugly.

"What?" Ichigo moaned pathetically. His scared fingers gingerly traced the large red welt rapidly accumulating on the side of his face. He could feel the irrelevant wound throb chaotically, igniting the left portion of his head in white hot pain. He flashed Rukia a deadly look of anger, his eye twitching ceremoniously.

"I am drawing, you idiot. See?"

Rukia confidently snatched what appeared to be a book. A hard covered, old fashioned, crimson book. A deep feeling of complete and utter remorse trailed up Ichigo's spine. He knew that novel. He had read it countless times, memorizing and often quoting the material. It was Shakespeare. A copy of all of the most beautiful sonnets the man had ever composed. That volume was now entirely covered in messed up images of Chappy the rabbit. One in particular looked a lot like him, struggling to open a juice box. It was mortifying.

"God damn it! What the hell have you done?!" Ichigo screamed in a high pitched tone. The red head scrambled roughly towards his bed, tripping over every obstacle in his path. Particularly the pencils that had recently tumbled off of his desk.

_"What have I done?"_ Rukia stated incredulously. "I just fixed your ugly book! Show some appreciation for once!"

She held the volume protectively against her chest, her fingers locked beneath the crimson cover. Her knuckles were white from the strain, cracking and snapping in response to the antagonized tension.

"You want me to thank you? Seriously? How could I possibly do that! You just destroyed my book with that abnormal twitching of yours!"

Ichigo swiftly regained his composure and furiously attempted to pry the Shakespearian novel from Rukia's tense fingertips. She wiggled and squirmed while trying to rid herself of his violent touch. She even began crawling to the end of the red head's messy bed. She kicked him multiple times, her small feet swinging around chaotically, striking his muscular torso and face. Ichigo groaned in annoyance before managing to successfully pin Rukia down with his legs. He then plucked the book from her grasp, snickering victoriously.

"Ha ha!" Ichigo cried, thrusting the novel in the air. "I declare myself the ultimate winner!"

Rukia growled in frustration and attempted to, once again, snatch her makeshift sketch book from the teen's grasp. Ichigo spared the raven haired girl once glance, before gracefully withdrawing his legs from her abdomen. In the process of shifting his feet, he prodded her ribcage roughly for good measure.

"That's what you get from destroying my property. I suggest that you don't do that again."

"Excuse me? Are you telling me what to do?"

"Nope." Ichigo chirped brightly. " I am only giving you a recommendation."

"Why you little-" Rukia cut her nasty insult short in an attempt to nail the red headed boy on the back of his head. Her foot sliced through the air like a dagger set upon destruction and chaos. Moments upon striking Ichigo directly however, her foot veered off course. The teen swatted her oncoming appendage as if it was nothing but a mere insect. He then jumped off of the mattress, his own large feet connecting with the cluttered floor boards exuberantly.

"Nice try midget. That was a pretty good kick."

Rukia glared at the teen with a vengeful wrath. Her eyes were set on completely tearing Ichigo apart. The young woman's gaze only mildly irritated the red head. He had seen far worse in reality. Karin had a stare that could rival that of any hollow.

"Oh, calm down." The teenager paused for several moments, thoughtfully observing his treasured hard cover. "Now if I can get this crap off..." Ichigo scowled, harshly rubbing the surface of the crimson novel with the sleeve of his blue shirt. The pencil only smeared, creating an array of odd black lines. Each rabbit had now gained a mustache. Each black smear curled mockingly on the features of every bunny, taunting the angered teen. Oh joy.

"Look what you have done!" Ichigo placed the volume in both of his hands and shook it violently in Rukia's direction.

"I haven't done anything, fool! You were the one who just_ had_ to interrupt my creative streak."

"C-creative steak?" The red head stuttered unevenly.

In his opinion, Rukia could barely call her crappy drawings creative. She seemed to lack an abundance of ingenuity. Her messy etches were lopsided and crudely scribbled down upon the red cover of his precious volume. Each line was wobbly and careless, as if a three year old child had attempted to use a crayon for the first time. Oddly enough, she had the audacity to call her drawings _creative_? Ichigo could not wrap his head around it.

"Well, you could have saved my book the process of being throughly demolished by your _creativity_! What the hell was with all that twitching anyway? You looked like you were having a god damn seizure!" Ichigo exclaimed, clutching his Shakespearian novel to the point of angry combustion.

"It's called happiness, you moron! For your information, I _like _drawing. It makes me _happy. _Not that you'd know what that is, your face is in a constant scowl all the time!"

"Hey, don't judge me!" Ichigo muttered defensively. "It's not my fault I look like that!"

The dark haired girl smirked in satisfaction. It was a sly and sneaky expression that clawed at the boy's insides crudely. He had never known that Rukia could look so stuffed up. At most, a playful grin sparkled innocently across her features. Not... _that._

"Is your pride a little bruised?"

"Oh, shut up!"

Ichigo turned and quickly walked back towards his old grandpa of a desk. The table appeared as if it had fought a war. Scratches and deep groves adorned the surface everywhere. He could see his sister's names carved into the wood. The desk was an official antique. It had lived a full life in the Kurosaki household.

The boy sighed and lifted the damaged book towards his face. There was no saving it. There was no possible way he could salvage the remaining carcass of the Shakespeare volume. Rukia Kuchiki had_ touched_ it, for god's sake. Nothing in the human world was able to survive her clumsy wrath. In remorse, Ichigo sent the book one last mournful glance before tossing the item gently on the cold, hard, ground.

"Do. Not. Touch. My. Stuff. EVER AGAIN. Everything you touch dies." Ichigo stated, folding his muscular arms around his torso while sitting down heavily on his rotating chair.

"Don't be so over dramatic. You are not a princess. You are a substitute soul reaper. Anyway, it's just a book. I needed paper. Unfortunately, you didn't have anything lying around so... I used what I saw first." Rukia stated firmly, before flopping horizontally on Ichigo's squishy mattress.

The red head groaned, suppressing the urge to hit the girl harshly in the face. He hated when she messed with his things. He despised when she toyed with his books, music, bed, even his guitar. Although he reluctantly admitted that he was used to Rukia's irritating presence. Sometimes he found her child-like curiosity extremely intriguing. He fondly recalled the young women's juice box experience. It was hilarious.

"Ah, Rukia. I forgive you...this time."

"Ha." The girl sprawled on the bed laughed emotionlessly. The sound was extremely sarcastic. "You don't deserve my forgiveness."

Ichigo shook his head slowly in disbelieve. It was absolutely amazing how his friend could act so immature.

"You can't hold grudges forever. It's not in your DNA." The teen stated confidently.

"I am just kidding, you idiot! Stop being so serious for five minutes! It was just a drawing. I could always make more!"

The red head sighed while running one of his scared hands through his disheveled orange spikes. He did not want to imagine more of Rukia's sketches. He could already picture various bunny drawings within his tormented subconscious. Scribbles strewn about his text books, his walls, even his clothes. Rukia was obsessed with Chappy the rabbit, and it seemed highly probable that she would continue to illustrate her adoration.

"Feel free to continue thinking that. Whatever floats your boat." Ichigo murmured quietly, before receiving a wicked glare from Rukia. He could always count on the temper mental midget to flash him undesired flickers of anger at odd moments of silence.

"Hey, have you heard anything from Byakuya?" Ichigo pondered out loud, changing the subject.

"Byakuya?" Rukia muttered quietly. The young woman sat up slowly in thought. Her chin was tilted sideways towards the window in Ichigo's room. "I haven't really heard anything in a while. I assume he is perfectly fine. My brother can manage himself quite well when I am gone."

"Well, that's good to hear." The teenager stated firmly as he spun slowly from side to side in his chair.

He had avoided talking about Soul Society for weeks. He knew the subject throughly irritated Rukia, for she had been in Karakura Town for quite some time. Ichigo had his own reasons for dismissing almost every thought he contemplated. As much as the petite death god annoyed him, he couldn't help but feel highly anxious towards her departure. He had grown attached to Rukia, as much as he hated to admit it. He didn't want her to leave.

"So... how long until-"

"I leave?" Rukia interrupted quickly, fiddling with a stray piece of cotton on Ichigo's blue duvet. "I don't know. I haven't heard anything from Captain Ukitake either. He assigned me here, if I my return was direly needed a Hell butterfly would have been sent."

Ichigo nodded his head throughly, tapping his fingers in time with his raging heart beat. He avoided looking Rukia directly in the face. Her violet gaze would simply see past his uncaring facade, caressing the sadness looming deep within his heart. Rukia knew him all too well. The red head didn't want the midget to worry about his sanity. She cared about him too much already.

"Well, I guess you're going to deal with me a little longer." Rukia stated lightly.

Ichigo breathed out deeply. His fingers were still relentlessly shifting against his chair. He knew that his friend was only trying to lighten the mood. After all, saying goodbye was something he was utterly horrible at. For some reason, the red head found it difficult to let go of specific things.

"Yeah. Too bad."

The woman sitting on his bed suddenly twisted around. The expression plastered across her face was one of pure confusion. Ichigo quickly found himself cowering helplessly against his chair. The young man _did not_ want to deal with an angry Rukia _again_.

"What do you mean by _'too bad'_? Do you want me to stay here or not?"

"Of course I do!" Ichigo said loudly, stretching his long legs across the hard wood floor. "I just _really _wanted my closet back. Kon gets annoying. It can be extremely useful."

Rukia frowned, quickly snatching a rather mangled pillow from the far end of Ichigo's mattress. She grasped it harshly in her right hand, clutching the pouffy bundle much like an individual would gather a hand full of snow. She raised her hand gingerly, thrusting the blue rectangle across the room directly at the red head's astonished face. It struck the teen softly, ricocheting off of his head and onto the cold floor.

"Admit it. You miss me when I'm gone. I'm the best thing that's ever happened to you!"

Ichigo smiled. It was completely genuine. He slowly plucked the bundle of blue fabric off of the ground, tossing it back into Rukia's open hands. An odd expression lingered across her face when he pealed his brown eyes from the cerulean pillow resting precariously in her lap.

"For once, I can agree with you." He mumbled quietly.

Silence.

It seemed like time was moving at an unbelievably slow pace. Both Ichigo and Rukia simply examined each other as if the world depended on it. Each glance was intense and deep. Words were being spoken that could not be understood. Only the air knew what was being said.

"Ichigo..." The raven haired woman whispered softly. Her voice trailed off gradually.

In embarrassment, the red headed boy trained his focus away from the small figure in front of him. The girl's violet eyes seemed to pierce the very depths of his soul. For once in his life, the teen felt as if Rukia could see everything he sensed. Hear every small and inconvenient thing he thought. She was right there with him, right beside him, always there. He couldn't imagine living without her. The thought was simply too terrible to ponder. His world would become a spotless oblivion of grey, filled with thick rain clouds and thunder. The constant stream of precipitation would continue without her. The rain would prevail without her sunlight to wash it all away.

"Rukia-"

"ICHIGOOOO! DINNER!"

The teen sighed exasperatedly, clutching a fistful of orange hair thoughtfully in one hand. Yuzu had crappy timing. Not that he minded, he was rather hungry. He concluded that Rukia suspected his chaotic emotions. He could feel an odd bubbly sensation deep within the cavity of his chest. It forced his heart to climax dangerously. He could barley focus on breathing, let alone harbouring his insane feelings... for Rukia? Ichigo absentmindedly shivered from the thought. The very inclination of actually _liking _the midget seemed unfathomable.

The red head slowly rose from his swivelling chair, ripping his chocolate brown gaze from the hardwood floor.

"You might need to hide-"

"ICHIGO!" Several voices chanted thunderously.

The boy suddenly winced. His face slowly became more and more panicked every second. The teenager's tan complexion was transforming into an uncharacteristic pearly white.

_"Now."_

The short haired girl nodded abruptly as the pillow simultaneously cascaded from her lap. With practiced movements, she began to shift towards Ichigo's large and spacious closet. The brave soul reaper could recall every time she had camped out in her comrade's room. During fights and absolutely normal days. She knew every high pitched creak and sound the Kurosaki home made throughout the night. The small woman knew the way every human moved throughout the household. Especially Ichigo. Rukia had made it her business to literally memorize everything her so called 'strawberry' did.

"I'm going!" Rukia hissed quietly. She didn't need to be told twice. She reached out for the closet door quickly, lunging headfirst inside of the dark confined space. She thunked her head violently on the wall from her collapse, before tucking her small feet into the familiar fabric of her bed. Ichigo shut the sliding door behind her retreating form.

"Sorry Rukia. Next time I'll attempt to invite you over for dinner."

Ichigo could faintly detect a low groan from the other side of closet door. A small smile stretched across his handsome face. He couldn't possibly count how many times Rukia had smashed her fragile head against the solid wall within the darkness of his closet. It had become a common occurrence between the two of them, for they had committed the same frantic act of hide and go seek for years.

The red head silently exceeded his own boundary of sound, listening for the rambling steps of his father scrambling up the stairs. It had become routine for his single parent, Isshin Kurosaki, to barge into his room mere minutes after the ceremonious call for dinner. It was similar to an alarm, avidly proclaiming danger.

_**Boom, clang, clack, bang.**_

Ichigo sighed and lazily scratched the back of his neck. He knew _exactly_ what was coming.

_**THUNK!**_

"My son!"

The young teenager growled at his father, who was making quite the scene. The older man stood leisurely in Ichigo's door way. It appeared as if his parent had absolutely no care in the world. He didn't seem to mind intruding on the red head's personal space, nor did he notice the large gaping hole that now consumed about half of Ichigo's white bedroom door. He simply grinned, despite the obvious death glare plastered across his son's distraught face.

"You idiot!" Ichigo roared. "You just kicked a _hole _in my door!"

Isshin Kurosaki simply smiled and continued to stroll passively into the room. He began to stare around curiously, examining the messy disaster that dominated most of the boy's personal area. Pillows and sheets were randomly strewn upon the cold hardwood floor. Each cotton mass created a vast kaleidoscope of abstract bundles and bunches. Pencil crayons littered the ground excessively, decorating every inch of Ichigo's room.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

The messy haired teen mumbled a long string of curses under his breath. He had no idea what his stupid father was getting at. He had a small clue, but dared not to ponder it. Anything could happen when his perverted dad was around.

"_Nothing._ Can you just get the hell out for once?!" Ichigo bellowed angrily.

Isshin ignored his child's statement. He only maintained his faulty grin and continued to scan the disastrous area.

"What have you been doing? Wrestling with a tiger? Or..." The man trailed off slowly. Ichigo resisted the urge to plug his ears. He _did not_ want to hear what his father had to say.

"Don't say it." The red head whispered soundlessly. "Don't you dare-"

"THERE WAS A GIRL IN HERE! IS SHE HOT!?" His father shrieked, sporadically waving his arms and fingers together.

"NO! Hell no!" Ichigo cried, running his tensed hands through his tangled orange spikes.

His face was turning a vibrant shade of crimson. He could feel hot tendrils of shame caress his skin hungrily. His father was mad. Crazy. Mentally deranged. How could he possibly allow his subconscious access to such corrupt inclinations? The red head throughly shook his head, growling in contempt. His dad was simply built to be anything but reasonable.

Ichigo's thoughts were rudely interrupted as Isshin began to deviously creep around his room. He peeked cautiously under his spacious bed, lifting the remaining bundles of starchy white fabric in interest. He then bounded across the floor, rolling across various pencils, before stopping in front of the teen's occupied closet.

"Is she in here-"

**THWACK!**

That was the last straw. The last time the red head wanted to deal with his dad's illogical thoughts. Ichigo's round house kick had sent his father reeling through the air. After several amused moments, Isshin's journey abruptly ended. He landed head first into the far wall of the teenager's cavernous room.

"I told you to get the hell out! I am _NOT_ going to say it again!" Ichigo shouted.

His father moaned pathetically while attempting to drag his resisting body off of the cluttered floor. The young boy rolled his chocolate brown eyes. Moron. The man should have known better then to tick him off.

"You want a fight?" Isshin roared happily. "Fine!"

The red head scowled and rubbed his foot savagely. He was not in the mood to viciously attack his father. In fact Ichigo was rarely compelled to even talk to his dad, let alone randomly hit him. Unless provoked, that is. The boy would rather live out his existence in a room filled with Rukia's ghastly drawings. He would rather put up with her _creativity._

"Sorry. You're not worth my time."

Isshin groaned, successfully managing to stand on his feet. He wobbled dangerously, teetering from side to side. Ichigo effortlessly compared his father's unbalanced stance to that of a suspension bridge. He continued to wobble, shaking fruitfully back and forth, holding his bruised face delicately with one hand.

"Since when have you become all high and mighty? _Oh Masaki! What have I done!_ I've raised our son to the best of my ability and yet... I FAIL!" The man wailed.

Ichigo rolled his eyes, suppressing the urge to strike his father in the face again. The red head hated when his father mentioned his deceased mother. In his opinion, it was highly degenerating and disrespectful. Masaki had been a beacon of light when she was alive, the centre of the Kurosaki family.

"Just leave. Go pester Karin or something. You're good at that."

"I am not finished with you yet." Isshin whined childishly.

Ichigo narrowed his gaze. Everything in his vision was slowly becoming a pale red colour. His dad was literally cruising on a fine, fragile line. If he continued on his course, the red head was surely going to do something. Punch the man in the head? Kick him out the window?

_"Bye."_

"That is no way to treat your superior!" The older man yelled playfully.

With a lack of consideration, the man then lunged at Ichigo's tall and lean form. The red headed boy didn't even bat an eyelash. He just stepped sideways and watched his dad fail once again. It was quite pathetic.

"Go away!" Ichigo screamed.

Isshin flew out of the teenager's demolished room, landing in an awkward heap on the floor. He cried out loudly, gingerly scurrying away from the scene. Ichigo silently waited until his father's stiff footsteps could be audible from the staircase, before shutting what remained of his door.

Ichigo crouched down on his knees, poking his head through the spacious gap that now plagued his rooms only exit. He hissed angrily, smashing his left hand harshly against the jagged white surface of his door. For now, the demolished piece of wood would have to remain a restoration project.

"ICHIGOO! ARE YOU COMING OR NOT!" Yuzu cried again from the first floor.

The young boy closed his eyes in contemplation. He _did not_ want to see his father again for a _long_ time. He would rather starve then commit that action.

"I am not hungry! I will eat later!"

"What?!" Several voices yelled shrilly. "You are always hungry!"

Ichigo's stomach grumbled in response to his sisters loud demands. He wanted to eat, but knew better then to do that in front of Rukia. The midget needed food too, after all. It would be rude if he decided to ditch his raven haired friend.

"Nope! I am fine!" Ichigo retorted loudly while retracting his auburn head from the large gap that enveloped his door. It was starting to become routine, dismissing dinner. Ever since Rukia had waltzed into his life, his family interaction had become rather strained.

"You can come out now-" Ichigo stated firmly, turning around.

Rukia did not need to be told twice. She was already out of the teen's dark and mystical closet. In fact, she was sprawled out across the floor in an extremely lazy position. A pencil looped carelessly between her fingers, spinning in circles, round and around.

"Your dad is weird." Rukia mumbled as she continuously twirled the writing utensil.

Ichigo sighed as he slid his feet languidly across the floor. His toes connected painfully with various writing instruments strewn about the ground. His room needed a thorough cleansing. His bedroom was usually a place of serene quiet, a spotless oblivion of perfection. Now...not so much. He groaned, landing violently on his bed.

"Your telling me..." The young boy murmured in a helpless tone.

"He might grow out of it."

"What?" Ichigo questioned doubtfully. "My father has the mentality of a three year old and he's already a grown man. It's a little too late for him to _'grow up'_."

"Well he could!" Rukia shouted quietly.

"Nope. Never."

Ichigo reached over the edge of his bed, grabbing an abandoned pillow off of the hardwood floor. In agile movements, he thrusted the small rectangular piece of cotton under his orange head. Rukia always seemed to possess an impossible amount of faith. It leaked out of her pores like water and submerged anyone within a one hundred metre radius.

"You know, you can go eat. I won't take it to heart, we've done this a thousand times." The raven haired girl stated coldly, still toying with the pencil in her hand.

Ichigo froze. His whole body felt like it was completely covered in ice. He sent Rukia a horrified sideways glance.

"_Are you insane?_ Did you hear what that man was talking about? I can't possibly spend another minute near him!"

Rukia rolled her violet eyes and shrugged her shoulders carelessly. The last thing she wanted to hear was Ichigo complaining about his preposterous father. She had to admit that the whole conversation they had shared was particularly bizarre. Random explosions of sound had wreaked havoc throughout her small closet, along with boisterous accusations and screams. Isshin Kurosaki was just as hotheaded and quick minded as her strawberry.

"Fine. But you _did _seem to handle him quite well."

Ichigo rapidly sat up while he clutched his sheets for dear life. It appeared as if the boy had greatly disliked Rukia's innocent statement.

"H-h-handle him? I shouldn't have to _handle_ my own dad! I'm a teenager! Not a grandfather!" The red head screeched audibly, his cry shaking the bed frame.

"Relax. You should have took that as a complement, idiot. It's not like I give you those often." Rukia muttered, dropping the purple pencil in her hand harshly onto the floor.

Ichigo slowly smiled, running a hand quickly through his auburn hair. It was much like Rukia to spontaneously dish out a complement and spit out an insult five times as fast. Although the red head felt hesitant towards the midget's odd demeanour, he couldn't help but find her lack of respect comforting. It was something he had grown used to through the years he had spent in Rukia's company.

"Whatever." The raven haired girl exclaimed quietly, waving a hand dismissively. "Do you want help cleaning your room? I had a hand in messing things up, I suppose."

The teenage child observed his friend for several moments. She wanted to help organize his things? The thought was kind, but unnecessary. It was his property and responsibility after all.

"Nah. I can do it. Just stay there."

Rukia laughed. The sound lifted and danced throughout the air. "You want me to stay here? In the middle of the floor? I am on top of all your things!"

Ichigo sent the girl a baffled look. "Don't play silly with me. You know what I mean."

Rukia playfully stuck her tongue out, smiling slightly. Ichigo liked how the expression seemed to divide her face, lighting up her features brightly. Her violet eyes grew large and exquisite, expanding her sweet expression. The midget's maturity level tended to fluctuate depending on certain situations. The red head found it highly aggravating at most, particularly after arguments.

"Of course I do." The short woman said politely.

_Tap._

Ichigo and Rukia both glanced fervently at the window, startled. A rock had suddenly stuck the glass pane, igniting the room in sound. The orange haired teen abruptly moved from his lazy position along the mattress, crawling slowly towards the dimly lit window. Ichigo could faintly detect Rukia rising from the floor behind him, leaping gingerly onto his bed. He could feel her light weight pierce into the fabric softly as she inched towards his side.

_Tap._

Another rock. Ichigo curiously peered over the edge of the window sill, examining the street that lay beyond the glass pane. Nothing appeared to be out of place. From the eyes of a human that is. If one was to look past the old buildings and landmarks that lined the streets, they would easily notice a tall, slim figure. A figure clad in a deathly black and earthy green robe. The only recognizable trait about this individual however, was the pinstriped hat that sat perfectly upon his head.

"Urahara."

* * *

**Hello FanFiction! Congratulations! You have all successfully finished this first chapter! :) This is a new story my sister and I have decided to work on together! You all know the infamous CrystalShardsOfRain, correct? If not, you all should visit her stories! They are VERY descriptive! Anyways, we both hope you guys enjoyed reading this! This is our first Bleach fic! Please read and review! We would love to hear some feedback! :)**

**This is an AU fic! We are not completely finished the Bleach manga or the anime show! Just lettin' you people know! Some things will be a little different! Feel free to PM us if you guys have any questions! Help is appreciated! :D**

**P.S. This story is dedicated to BleachLover2346!**

**~IronEclipse**

**-CrystalShardsOfRain**

**(Disclaimer: We do not own anything from Bleach!)**


	2. Chapter 2

_'Surprises are foolish things.  
The pleasure is not enhanced, and the inconvenience is often considerable.'  
~Jane Austen_

* * *

Kisuke Urahara stood amid the pale glow of multiple street lights. The shop keeper's body was encased in long strips of dark shadow. They appeared to be consuming his tall form, swallowing every shard of daylight that remained on the pavement. His face seemed shrouded and ultimately gloomy. He appeared out of place among the modern aspects of Ichigo's neighbourhood. Then again, most people avoiding wearing odd articles of clothing.

Ichigo frowned as he continued staring at the man on the road. The expression twisted his features crudely. Something was terribly wrong. He could feel the raw suspicion claw and scratch at his insides. Urahara never strived to gain his attention unless there was a serious dilemma. Ichigo's frown deepened. When was the last time the shop keeper had made an appearance at his house? The teen could honestly not recall.

"Something's wrong." Rukia muttered quietly beside him.

Ichigo was jostled from his train of thought. He slowly tore his eyes from Urahara's shady figure, placing his brown gaze upon the raven haired midget. Her fore head was furrowed in speculation. Rukia seemed throughly distraught.

"Ha!" The red head laughed sarcastically. "Something is _always _wrong. First my perverted father, now... this."

Rukia rolled her eyes and shoved the red head playfully with her shoulder. "We don't even know what the issue is. It could be nothing."

"_Nothing?_ It's not like Kisuke is coming for a cup of tea. The man always has a purpose._ Always_."

Rukia sighed and ran several slender fingers through her dark strands of hair. She had to admit, Ichigo had a point. Urahara was always planning certain endeavours. He knew things average people didn't know. He constantly loomed around, mischievously creeping out random people, random things, and random occurrences. Kisuke Urahara seemed to know _everything._

"You don't need to be so nasty! I get the picture! Urahara is one big honking bowl of trouble!" The midget yelled while sending a brilliant scowl in the red head's direction.

"Good." Ichigo muttered. His voice cracked and snapped in response to the tension boiling in his veins.

Truthfully, the red head was not looking forward to meeting with the former Captain. The man was secretive and highly annoying, much like a coffee induced child. The thought utterly disturbed the teen. He could already imagine Urahara bouncing around his house like his obscene father.

Ichigo shook his head, sighing exasperatedly. He looked at Rukia thoughtfully. Her feelings were well hidden behind an obvious mask of indifference. Her beautiful violet coloured orbs were the only indication of her true emotions. They glowed softly in the darkness that obscured his bedroom. It was entrancing, yet throughly dangerous at the same time. If Rukia caught him staring... the teen shivered. He would instantly become minced meat.

The red head slowly peeled his gaze from the petite shinigami. He looked out the window instead, focusing his eyes on the desolate street outside the pane of glass. The streetlights were oddly intense, creating weird pools of radiant yellow light against the cracked pavement. Nearby houses lit up the night, cascading luminescent beams of brightness into the evening air. Colourful cars were parked in various driveways. Everything seemed in place. Everything looked normal. However, one vital thing was missing.

"Wha..." Ichigo trailed off, pressing his face against the cold sheet of glass.

Rukia flashed her friend a puzzled expression. He looked completely ridiculous. If an individual was to walk by the Kurosaki clinic, they would be utterly terrified. The teen's features were horribly disfigured due to the pane of glass placed in the window. His nose was bent at an abnormal angle and his cheeks were being stretched to their full capacity. In total, Ichigo Kurosaki resembled a squish. A squirrel and a fish combined.

_"What are you doing?"_ The raven haired girl exclaimed loudly. "You look like an idiot!"

Ichigo grunted, retracting his face from the glass pane. He ignored Rukia's hasty comment. The red head clumsily reached for his window instead, prying at the stiff hunk of reinforced plastic. In a series of simple movements, the rectangular chasm popped open. Cold evening air flooding into the room. The breeze shifted the green curtains attached to Ichigo's window.

"Urahara... he's gone." The red head stated, shoving his orange head through the window violently. Kisuke Urahara had completely vanished into thin air. Disappeared like smoke. The longer Ichigo pondered his absence, the more confused he became. The man was standing there a minute ago! Where the hell was he now?!

"What?! You're kidding." Rukia hissed, crawling closer to the red head's side.

Ichigo shook his head viciously and pointed a finger out the window casually. "See for yourself."

The midget didn't even wait three seconds. She grabbed the boy's shirt collar and savagely pushed him away. The red headed teen quickly tumbled roughly onto the floor. Rukia winced as she heard his head crack against the cold, hard, ground.

"Hey!" Ichigo shrieked urgently. A sharp and wicked glare was now plastered smoothly across his face.

Rukia merely ignored the red head's look of utter anger and thrusted her head out through the open window. She looked around curiously, examining the landscape surrounding the Kurosaki household. Ichigo had been correct. His observation had been completely valid, despite the certainty in which Rukia doubted his crazy assumption.

"You're right for once-" Rukia was cut off. Ichigo had leapt onto the mattress, violently tearing his way through various bundles of bedding. The raven haired midget narrowed her violet eyes in irritation. The teen looked severely annoyed. His face was contorted wickedly. His mouth was twisted into a pretzel of faint anger and his eyes glowed with burning malice.

"Of course I'm right, you little brat! Look!" The red head paused for several moments to slowly nudge his head and hands out through the window once again. Ichigo flailed his arms around wildly in an attempt to emphasize his point. "_See!_ _He's gone!"_

"It's probably your fault." Rukia muttered uncertainly.

"What? How is this_ my_ fault!?"

The midget rolled her eyes and attempted to mock Ichigo's earlier facial expression. The one he had expressed when the window was involved. Using her hands, she stretched the skin on her face in multiple directions.

"What the hell are you doing!?" Ichigo questioned abruptly.

Rukia sighed exasperatedly, retracting her small hands from the undulating curves of her face. In her opinion, Ichigo could be extremely daft. His facial dilemma mere minutes before had been completely disturbing. It seemed highly probable that Urahara had fled because of the teen's creepy window occurrence. Then again, the raven haired woman had peered outside of the glass several moments after the red head. Kisuke had been nowhere in sight.

"Mimicking your stupid face, idiot! He probably ran off because of you!" Rukia spat out crudely. Ichigo flashed the midget a look of pure irritation.

"I was looking _outside _for crying out loud! You would have done the same thing!" Ichigo hissed under his breath.

The black haired girl growled and clenched her fists at her sides. She glanced outside for several seconds in order to assure herself of Kisuke's certain departure.

"Maybe it's better that he is gone. You were saying you didn't enjoy Urahara's unexpected visits."

Ichigo scowled and sent another unruly glare in Rukia's direction. The short woman rolled her violet orbs quickly. It was obvious that the argument they were having was quite pointless. It didn't prove anything in the slightest. The shouting only made unwanted noise that bounced around the room relentlessly. If they started screaming any louder, Rukia was sure the red head's father would barge in the room again.

"Rukia, I _never _said that!" The teen screeched angrily.

"Well, you intended it obviously." Rukia stated passively, staring strait into Ichigo's furious brown eyes.

Arguments always tended to end harshly between the two of them. She hated it sometimes, all the infuriating yelling, screaming, and hissing. She was used to it however, more then she was willing to admit. It was almost comforting, the ease in which she could simply shriek at Ichigo. It was as easy as breathing.

"Whatever." The red head grumbled. "At least we know he is gone now."

_"Who's gone?_"

Rukia and Ichigo reeled back in complete shock. They collapsed backwards onto the mattress, cascading into various bundles of cotton. Their legs became tangled viscously in the sheets. Their hands gripped the cerulean duvet strewn carelessly over the bed. Kisuke Urahara was peering conspicuously over the ledge of the red head's window. His stripped bucket hat loomed darkly over his features, bathing his brown eyes in shadow. The distant glow of light illuminated his blonde hair. He looked creepy.

"_You stupid idiot!_" Ichigo yelled. "You scared the hell out of us!"

Urahara chuckled lightly as he peered into the teenager's room. A thoughtful expression lingered on his face as he observed the mangled knot that made up Ichigo and Rukia's limbs.

"_Really?_ I thought you sensed my spiritual pressure." The shop keeper paused to remove a dead fly that was sprawled along the edge of the window. He inspected the insect curiously before tossing it carelessly over his shoulder. "Apparently not."

Ichigo growled, retracting his strained fingertips from the mattress. He glared at Urahara violently, slowly lifting his shocked body into sitting position. He hated surprises. He despised the hesitant feeling of dread that lingered discernibly in the midst of shock. It felt as if an unknown entity was attempting to wring his heart out, relishing in the satisfaction of inflicting harm. He _loathed _it.

"I was- I was-"

"In the middle of bickering with Rukia. Like an old married couple, might I add." Urahara cut Ichigo off, smiling hesitantly through the window frame.

Rukia had successfully managed to sit up. She teetered precariously beside Ichigo like a wavering tower. Her raven locks spilled down her shoulders in a cascade of knots. Various tendrils of hair hung fervently around her face, sticking up at random places. Urahara made a face as he looked at her, throughly disapproving of her unkept appearance.

"No we were not!" Ichigo whined childishly. The teen's face was a picture of pure annoyance.

The shop keeper couldn't help but grimace slightly at the sight of it. He had seen the red head countless times. Many vengeful stares had been directed his way over the past few years. Kisuke was basically immune to the teenager's odd glances and glares. It had become a product of life for him.

After several moments, Urahara removed the judgemental expression off of his face. His bright brown eyes connected with Ichigo in a heart beat.

"Then what were you doing?"

The red head groaned and sighed deeply. His features were contorted into a hateful frown.

_"Nothing. _We were doing absolutely _nothing."_

Urahara smiled. It was sick and twisted, spiralling up his devious features like a slithering snake. He slowly watched as Ichigo's feeble expression disappeared. His mouth became a vengeful grimace, splitting his handsome face in half. The red head caught on rather quickly. The shop keeper's smile deepened as he peeled his gaze from the teen's distraught form.

"Your surroundings speak otherwise, my friend. What are you, 18?" The shop keeper stated confidently, flashing Ichigo another wicked smile.

The red head groaned audibly, running his hands through his untamed orange spikes. Beside him, Rukia flinched. Her small form shook slowly, vibrating the mattress in a series of small tremors. Ichigo ripped his angry brown gaze from Urahara's forest green form to glance at the midget pensively. She looked extremely frustrated.

"NO. We _were_ arguing, Urahara. You have a sick mind..."

A small grin was the only answer the man gave to Rukia's statement. The young woman resisted the urge to stick her tongue out and roughly bash the man in the head. Idiot. If he was going to barge into a room, he had better be ready for the consequences.

"I'll take your word for it." Urahara muttered, while sending a slight wink in Rukia's direction. "Do you mind if I enter the premises?"

"Uh, hello?"

Both Rukia and Kisuke directed their gazes towards Ichigo. Their expressions were fairly bland, which was surprising considering the situation.

"Yes, my fine friend?" Urahara said innocently.

Ichigo folded his arms firmly across his muscular chest. He peered indecisively at the shop keeper, contemplating his retort. Kisuke had his reasons for showing up at the red head's house of course. The teenager knew that about as well as he knew the back of his own hand. Urahara always had a reason for spontaneously appearing, as much as he hated to admit it.

"What are you doing here?_ Why are you even here?_" Ichigo asked, stretching his long legs languidly across the mattress.

He continued to stare at Urahara curiously. The shop keeper scratched the bristle on his chin in deep thought. It was then that both Ichigo and Rukia noticed an obvious change in Kisuke's sarcastic demeanour. He seemed to deflate drastically, emitting seriousness instead of humour. It filled the room with darkness, weighing down heavily on everyone in the room, even Kisuke himself.

"I am here to inform you both of an issue that has recently come to light. Your assistance would be greatly appreciated."

Ichigo cocked an eyebrow in interest. As much as he was worried, he didn't want to let it show. Not yet anyway. He knew that Rukia understood his concern, but Urahara? The boy did not want to put the shop keeper down quite yet.

"Alright then. You can come in."

Kisuke nodded and swiftly made his way into the red head's room. The man placed his hands on the edges of the window and slowly pushed himself through the entrance. His robes lightly fluttered in the wind before he landed on the hardwood floor delicately.

Rukia and Ichigo turned and watched the slivery blond as he stalked across the room and quickly sat in the only available chair. The one posted right by the war beaten desk. He twirled and twisted playfully in the spinning seat for several moments. A smile lit up his features, but it did not last very long. It gradually slipped off his face in a horribly slow series of movements.

"Yoruichi has gone missing." Kisuke muttered quietly, twisting a bright blue crayola pencil between his toes.

Ichigo frowned deeply. Yoruichi was a very close friend of Urahara. She had helped the red head countless times, especially when assistance was direly needed. However, it seemed highly unlikely that Yoruichi Shihoin had merely gone missing. She left Kisuke's shop freely, whenever she felt like it. It wasn't in her nature to disappear. She came and went on her own accord.

"She's gone?" The red head asked quizzically. Urahara nodded.

"Yes. However, she's been gone for a month. Yoruichi usually informs me of her whereabouts every two weeks or so. I don't like to be kept in the dark. On the contrary, what bothers me is the abrupt manner of her departure. She has failed to contact me. She is... gone." Kisuke continued to toy with the blue writing utensil between his toes. It bounced around on the hardwood floor loudly. The sound stung Ichigo's ears.

"Have you tried locating her spiritual pressure?" Rukia pondered out loud beside Ichigo, fiddling with a stray string of dark blue fabric on the red head's duvet.

"Of course. Unfortunately, I can't feel a thing. That's why I've come to visit you two, being a humble shop keeper and all."

"What do you mean?" Ichigo questioned impatiently. The young man was leaning forward in his seat. It was as if he could no longer wait anymore. He needed to hear absolutely everything the man had to say.

"Well, it's quite simple really."

"Kisuke, what do you need us to do?" Rukia murmured. The woman crossed her arms over her chest in a hurried frenzy. The emotions flickering through her eyes were extremely hectic. Annoyance, sympathy, sadness, and restlessness.

The raven haired girl knew very well what the shop keeper was getting at. Every time Urahara came to visit, the man always came bearing bad news. It seemed as if Ichigo and his friends were the only saviours to any serious problems Kisuke had.

"I need you two to help me locate her spiritual pressure. Particularly you, Ichigo. You have the ability to locate spirit ribbons effectively."

Ichigo's chocolate brown eyes widened immensely. _"You want me to locate Yoruichi's spirit ribbon?"_

Urahara dipped his head slightly in approval. "Yes. You two should be aware that only upper level shinigami can achieve this technique. But, I know that you, Ichigo, have successfully used and achieved this capability."

Ichigo shifted silently from his elongated position on the mattress. He scratched the back of his head in interest, ruffling his rebellious orange locks. Urahara was severely worried. The red head could faintly detect it, for the air seemed to reek of inexhaustible concern. The expression lingered inconspicuously on the crease of his mouth. It appeared to highly irritate Kisuke, as if he disliked feeling such intrusive emotions.

"What makes you think I'll be able to find her? Even if I use Reiraku, it might not work. You tried locating her already yourself, Urahara. If she's really gone..." Ichigo peered at the shop keeper quizzically. He didn't want to say it. He didn't want to watch Kisuke's face droop in defeat. It would be too painful.

"Ichigo... you have an abnormally high amount of spirit energy. It surpasses most Soul Reapers, including myself. I'm asking you, as a friend, to help me. I wouldn't be requesting your assistance if this wasn't important." Urahara retorted sadly.

Ichigo sighed and sent a strained look towards Rukia. What if he couldn't do what Urahara asked? It was difficult trying to focus on an individual's spirit ribbon. There were so many of them out there. The boy could honestly compare it to searching for a needle in a haystack. Impossible and highly risky.

"Urahara-" The shop keeper interrupted the red head with a muffled cry. His hands cradled his head softly.

"Ichigo...Yoruichi is my best friend. I can not just sit back and pretend she is perfectly fine. I have failed her too many times in the past, and I can't possibly continue now. There is something odd going on here, and I refuse to ignore it. I'm asking you from the bottom of my heart to help me." The man paused for several moments. _"Please."_

The red head shifted restlessly on his bed, untangling his long legs from the messy sheets. He peered at Rukia carefully from under his eye lashes, attempting to silently communicate with her. She met his gaze sorrowfully, violet eyes melting into deep brown. She looked genuinely empathetic towards Urahara's plea. Her small feminine face was twisted into a series of mournful expressions, all that which struck Ichigo as depressing.

Rukia smiled timidly, absentmindedly scratching the back of her neck in thought. "What made you think that we were going to refuse your declaration of help? You are our friend, just as much as Yoruichi is."

Urahara released a deep breath of gratitude. He then twisted the bright blue crayola pencil between his toes one last time, before kicking it violently across the red head's bedroom. It narrowly missed Ichigo's face, slamming into the wall slightly above his broad shoulders.

"Well then! When do we get started?" Kisuke leapt off his chair before he even finished his sentence. It was quite a marvel to behold.

Ichigo winced as the writing utensil fell unceremoniously into his lap. The teenager wanted to yell at the man for being so careless, but he felt like the situation could use a little less conflict. After all, they were talking about something entirely serious.

"Uh..." The red head paused and sent a questioning look towards his raven haired friend. He didn't know when they should begin searching for the missing woman. Now? Tomorrow? Next week?

"Whenever you want Kisuke." Rukia murmured softly.

Ichigo raised his eyebrows in question. He was not sure if that was the brightest idea. The shop keeper tended to run on a crazy time scheme. Missions at night and training sessions during school hours were only small examples of the trouble the man could cause. Ichigo was certain that their hunt for Yoruichi would start quite soon.

"Considering the fact that I came to visit you two at a rather inconvenient hour, we will begin tomorrow. After all, it looks like you guys have some cleaning to do." Urahara stated firmly, looking around Ichigo's room slightly amused.

The red head flashed the shop keeper an aggravated look of anger. Despite the overwhelming urge to hit Kisuke harshly on the head, Ichigo slowly softened his frustrated features. He was grateful. Urahara's time choice had blessed the teen with a night of hopeful sleep. Most of the time, Rukia shook him awake. Her soul pager would bleep fretfully in the middle of the night, avidly proclaiming the presence of Hollows. The red head crossed his fingers. One full evening of sleep would be heaven.

Kisuke began to cross Ichigo's bedroom. His wooden clogs scraped the floor loudly, igniting the spacious room in sound. Various pencil crayons flew across the floor, hitting the base of the teen's bed violently. Each minuscule clack and bump sent shivers down the red head's spine. The writing utensils sounded like gun shots as they rolled across the hardwood floor. The small bouts of noise seemed too loud. Ichigo didn't want his father to hear, although a flight of stairs prevented Isshin from detecting all of the clatter.

"What time?" Ichigo asked softly, his voice cascading effortlessly across the vast room.

Before jumping out of the window however, the man jerked to a stop. He scratched his head anxiously. The red head's question was a good one to say the least.

"What time? Ummmm..." Urahara's voice trailed off slowly in thought. "Just meet me at the shop."

"What?" Rukia declared loudly. "That doesn't really answer the question!"

Urahara sighed deeply. Free time tomorrow was certainly not a problem for him. He had made it his business to find Yoruichi. The man had completely cleared his schedule for the task. Kisuke did not give Ichigo and Rukia a set time for the job, because he believed they should have the ultimate choice. The shop keeper was asking for a lot. He was sure that both soul reapers were quite busy.

"Just come to the shop!" Urahara yelled happily.

Rukia groaned and slapped a hand to her fore head. The woman had forgotten how displeasing Kisuke could be. The shop keeper always seemed to answer questions in riddles. It made no sense half the time.

"Urahara-" The raven haired girl was interrupted.

"The shop!" Kisuke squealed cheerfully.

Rukia hissed crudely under her breath. Urahara could change his moods effortlessly. It was highly aggravating, and Rukia hated it. One moment the shop keeper was serious, the next he was acting completely obscene. The raven haired girl narrowed her eyes, as Kisuke began to wiggle his way through the window frame. His feet dangled around in the air sporadically, occasionally striking the forest green curtains. He looked momentarily ridiculous.

Rukia looked at Ichigo quizzically, amused to discover his face split in half from a smile. For a slight moment, every harsh line on the teen's handsome visage vanished. His eyebrows unraveled and his mouth softened. His face relaxed, as if a wave of calm had descended upon his distraught features. The raven haired Shinigami relished moments like these, when Ichigo randomly decided to crack a grin. He looked genuinely happy.

A loud muffled groan interrupted Rukia's internal bickering. Ichigo's face darkened again, the grin lingering on his full lips transforming into a sinister scowl. A sincere feeling of utter lose filled Rukia's stomach, as she watched her orange haired companion turn sour. She liked when her strawberry smiled. _Her _strawberry? Rukia flinched and discarded the thought.

Urahara was throughly thrashing now, his wooden clogs striking the wall exuberantly. Ichigo frowned, leaping towards Kisuke's flailing form. The mattress wobbled dangerously from the teenager's weight. Rukia could hear the springs shrivel and creak from her position on the bed.

"Uh, Kisuke? Would you like some help?" Ichigo asked politely.

The only response to the teenager's inquiry however, was the pathetic booms and bangs of Urahara's struggle to release himself from the window. The boy winced and continued to march towards the troubled shop keeper.

"Hello? I said, do you want some help-"

"Get off me!" Urahara suddenly howled.

Ichigo frowned deeply. What was Kisuke talking about? Both the red head and Rukia were not touching the man at all. Who could possibly be handling him? In response to his own thoughts, the teen leaned forward to get a better look at the shop keeper. Nothing in particular seemed off. At first glance that is. Ichigo squinted his eyes in the attempt to assure himself that he wasn't going insane. A pair of hands were tightly gripping the fabric at the front of Urahara's robes. They were pushing and pulling at the fabric in a hurried frenzy. It appeared as if the person hidden from Ichigo's view, was trying to push the shop keeper back into his messy room.

In a panic, Ichigo reached out and snatched Rukia's arm. "We need to get out of the way!"

"What?" The violet eyed midget shouted loudly.

The red head groaned and gestured towards Urahara's suffering form. In an instant, the young woman seemed to know what Ichigo was talking about.

_"Okay!" _Rukia shrieked in a surprised tone.

Ichigo manoeuvred his grasp, reaching for Rukia's hand in a series of antagonized movements. When he finally held her small fingers within his own strong digits, he tugged her harshly into his chest. A startled squeal poured out of Rukia's mouth as she careened headlong into the red head's broad torso. Behind her, Kisuke flew into the room. His deep green robes fluttered wildly around his thrashing form, consuming his body in an array of black, white, and green. He landed awkwardly on the floor, his bucket hat flying madly off of his blonde head.

Ichigo cascaded onto his back, landing in a massive bundle of blue and white bedding. Rukia was sprawled across his chest, her short black hair draped across his face like a fan. The red head sputtered audibly, spitting out several strands of ebony. He could feel his face burn from embarrassment. He hadn't meant for Rukia to land on him. He had merely attempted to pull her away from the window. His plan had failed.

Rukia groaned, pushing herself off of Ichigo's startled form. Her face was flushed red, each strand of shame licking her fine features hungrily. However, something caught her eye. Nothing seemed important anymore. She didn't care about her awkward predicament, or Kisuke's mangled body on the floor. Rukia couldn't tear her eyes from the individual standing victoriously above Urahara. She couldn't rip her stare from the sleeveless white haori spilling across the floorboards of Ichigo's room. Soi Fon, captain of the second division, stood solemnly admid the chaos, and she didn't look happy. Not at all.

* * *

**Hello world! Welcome to chapter two! We would like to thank all of the awesome people who have reviewed, followed, and decided to favourite our story! Your support is greatly appreciated! :D A special call out goes to:**

**X-Chick303  
BosRonald  
Cheeseboy1400  
Mr. Eclipse**

**And... yeah. That's pretty much it! Be a kind duckling and review! We need reviews like Rukia needs Chappy the Rabbit! :D :P Feel free to PM us if you people have any questions!**

**Reminder: This IS a _slight_ AU fic! Everything is basically the same, however some events have not occurred. For example, Isshin doesn't know about Rukia and Ichigo quite yet. ALRIGHT. If some characters seem a little OOC... yeah... we're still trying to get to know all of the fun characters in Bleach. That is why we are writing this fic! Go with the flow! :P **

**~IronEclipse**

**-CrystalShardsOfRain**

**Disclaimer: We do not own Bleach. :'(**


	3. Chapter 3

_'Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored, then to anything on which it is poured.'  
~Mark Twain_

* * *

Soi Fon stood amid the chaos, as still and threatening as a defiant tyrant. Her angry features were hidden behind a black masquerade of deep dark shadow. All of the colour in Ichigo's bedroom seemed to dissipate drastically. His cerulean blue duvet became a dull spectacle of worn cotton. The crisp paint on the walls of his room seemed to flake off and peel away from the sturdy plaster. The bright, comforting sheen of the hardwood floor became as tattered as the the bottom of Kisuke's wooden clogs. Soi Fon sucked every bit of life from the red head's cavernous room. She absorbed it like a leach.

Rukia had never been fond of the Captain of squad two. There was something terrifying about her, something the raven haired shinigami refused to decipher. She seemed too cold. An icy air surrounded Soi Fon, much like a sinister sickness. It submerged those who had the courage to face her and the stupidity to defy her. Rukia didn't feel inclined to become a victim of Soi Fon's cold demeanour, despite the ease in which her mind easily said otherwise.

The petite women inhaled a deep breath, simultaneously attempting to pry her frozen limbs off of Ichigo's muscular body. She was too nervous to notice the way the red head was staring at her. Ichigo couldn't help himself. She looked so frightened and feeble. Her care free personality immediately vanished as Soi Fon stared at her, throughly disapproving of her predicament. Ichigo couldn't have cared less.

The teen's lack of respect was completely normal. Ichigo wasn't particularly fond of Soi Fon. Then again, he wasn't too fond of the Gotei Thirteen either. There was something intimidating about her though. It wasn't her height, or her stature. It was the power she possessed. He could feel it in the air, the heavy sensation of suppressed spiritual pressure. It was amazing.

_"Soi Fon?"_ Ichigo stated blandly. The boy's voice was laced with drops of annoyance.

The red head was reaching his limit for the day. He could deal with his mentally deranged father and Kisuke, but Soi Fon? That woman was a tough nut to crack. She acted as if everyone was lower then her. It was simply aggravating.

The Captain spared Ichigo a displeased glance before she continued her task. Whatever it was. The woman was currently glaring daggers at Urahara, who was still sprawled lifelessly across the floor of the red head's bedroom. The shop keeper's dark robes created the illusion of shadow, which was not completely surprising given the circumstance. The man probably yearned to hide from Soi Fon's deadly scrutiny.

"Get up." The woman hissed coldly. She prodded Kisuke with her toe roughly.

Ichigo winced at the action. It was cruel and awfully heartless. Only someone with great anger could have successfully accomplished that movement. It was troubling to simply think about. What could have possibly irritated the stern Captain?

"Hello?" Ichigo muttered sullenly. "Soi Fon-"

"What are you doing?" Rukia whispered angrily.

The red head eyed the raven haired midget pensively, looking deep into her violet coloured orbs. She was in the middle of untangling her petite legs from the obscurity of his own. That however, did not stop her from shooting a rather distasteful glare at him.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I want to know what the hell she is doing in my room!" Ichigo hissed under his breath, pulling his strong legs out from under Rukia's small limbs.

Ichigo hated his predicament. His room seemed to be a place of congregation. An area of exceptionally odd occurrences. It was no longer the quiet place it used to be. He missed those days. Those long days of solitary confinement, completely and utterly alone. Back then, he could read in peace. He could sleep soundly in the dead of night, oblivious to the threat of hollows. He could watch the sun rise high in the sky and witness the moon kiss the stars, all on his own accord. Unfortunately, those days were gone.

He couldn't relish in the satisfaction of a good book because Rukia would ruin his literary comfort. She would ambush his thoughts with mindless questions and inquires. Sleep was out of the question. He had to hunt and purify hollows, no matter the time or place. He couldn't watch the sun embrace the clouds on a lazy afternoon, or watch the moon swallow darkness at night without Rukia. She was always there.

"Soi Fon is a _Captain, _Ichigo. You can't mindlessly bother her with questions! Show some respect, idiot!" Rukia mumbled harshly, swatting Ichigo violently on the arm.

"Last time I checked, she's in _my _room! I mean, do I have to count _every_ intrusion that has happened today for you? She's trespassing on my property!" The red head screeched quietly, lowering his voice so that only Rukia could hear his angry bout of conversation.

Rukia sighed and shifted her body away from Ichigo harshly. The girl's face was a burning red crimson due to embarrassment. She should have been more prepared. Ichigo's actions were always shocking and surprising at best. She sent the boy a long withering glare before she focused her attention on the small Captain present in the room.

Soi Fon was still standing heavily over Urahara. The woman's eyes glittered and glowed like two wavering flames. Rukia cringed and forced her body into a kneeling position. She would pay her respects to the squad two Captain whether Ichigo liked it or not.

_"I said, get up!"_ Soi Fon muttered sourly. The warrior completely ignored Rukia's respectful position on the floor.

The woman once again attempted to harshly poke Kisuke with her foot. Rukia closed her eyes and resisted the urge the attack the petite Captain. She believed that the woman was beginning to go too far, for reasons still unknown. But despite her opinion, the midget remained in her constricting pose. Time would slowly answer all of her questions.

Sadly, Ichigo seemed to think differently. The boy's blood was beginning to boil. He couldn't possibly believe what was occurring before his eyes. Why was Urahara still lying numbly upon the ground? Was he putting on a show? Was the man desperately trying to heighten the frustration in the room? The red head swore and slowly began to rise to his feet. The teen was finished with all of the unnecessary commotion. He needed answers. He needed them now.

"Hey! Soi Fon! _What are you doing in my room?_" Ichigo yelled loudly.

The white clad female scowled. It was an unpleasant expression that twisted the red head's insides. The Captain was certainly angry. The teen had a deep suspicion that it had something to do with the serious shop keeper.

"That is none of your concern, Ichigo Kurosaki! Stay out of this." Soi Fon bellowed crudely, flashing the red head a deadly look of fury.

_"Stay out of what?"_ The boy retorted quickly. Sadly, the squad two Captain paid no notice to the irritated teen. The woman merely frowned and simply ignored everything and everyone around her. Urahara was the only individual who seemed to gain her attention.

On the ground, Kisuke attempted to regain his footing. His forest green robes embraced the wooden floorboards like recently spilled water as he gingerly stood on his feet. The earthy fabric of his dark green robes undulated down the hardwood, touching the cold floor like a ray of sudden sunshine. He didn't look particularly happy. His humorous demeanour swiftly took flight. It was replaced by an edgy darkness. Ichigo could feel faint traces of Urahara's spiritual pressure ripple from internalized tension.

The former Captain of squad twelve loomed over Soi Fon, extremely discontent. His head was bare, for his pin stripped hat was strewn carelessly upon the icy floorboards. He quickly snatched it. His arm was a peachy blur in the darkness of Ichigo's bedroom. Within moments too slim to notice, the bucket hat sat firmly on the shop keeper's blonde head. His brown eyes were bathed in shadow. He looked very unpleasant.

"Good evening Soi Fon. It is a pleasure to see you again." Kisuke stated quietly, staring solemnly into the depths of the warrior's grey eyes.

The Captain of squad two narrowed her orbs upon hearing Urahara's polite greeting. She knew very well that he had faked it. They were beyond sentimental salutations of kindness. Over the years that they had known each other, her hatred for him had grown. He was nothing but a traitor. A complete waste of time.

"Kisuke Urahara, don't lie to me. You're nothing but a lazy, arrogant, self possessed fool." Soi Fon retorted, her voice filled with heavy contempt.

"Aww. That's no way to greet an old friend, now is it?" The shop keeper smiled hesitantly.

Soi Fon clenched her hands violently. Her small fingernails drew blood as they pierced the soft skin underneath her tensed fingertips. She internalized the urge to kill him. After years of peace and calm, she still wanted to harm and maim his body. He had abused and misused the power he had once possessed. As a Captain, he had been clever, she would give him that. But, he had took Yoruichi away from Soul Society. She would never forgive him for that act of cruelty.

Soi Fon narrowed her stormy gaze. "_Friends?_ You are most certainly treading on dangerous waters Kisuke. We are _not_ friends. We will_ never_ be friends."

Urahara sighed and directed his brown eyes away from the Captain standing before him. The man was tired. Stressed out. He was not in the mood to deal with the violent woman today. The shop keeper was already struggling with risky issues. Problems that could potentially effect the world if given the chance. Soi Fon was a person that only caused _more_ trouble.

"Ah, Soi Fon." The shop keeper paused for several seconds. His bright orbs pierced the night dramatically. "If conflict is what you are seeking...I suggest we go outside. I was going there in the first place."

"What!?" Ichigo shrieked suddenly.

The red head could not believe what was occurring. Urahara wanted to fight? What was going on? The teen shook his head skeptically. Kisuke was usually peaceful and strong minded. The man never jumped to conclusions. Ichigo narrowed his eyes. Something was going on. Something big. Why else would the man mindlessly ram head first into conflict?

"Fine, let's go. Our business does not include Captain Ukitake's seated officer or the human boy. I want this over and done with as soon as possible." Soi Fon stated coldly, strutting purposefully towards the window.

Urahara nodded. He had suspected as much. He slowly began to follow Soi Fon, his eyes trailing the cluttered ground excessively. Various pencil crayons collided with his feet as he gradually walked across the floor. A bright red crayola crayon hit the edge of his left clog, flying into one of the walls. His forest green robes kissed the hardwood floor scattering multiple glitter pens around the room.

A small smile stretched across his face. The very thought of Ichigo actually owning glitter pens happened to be hilarious. There _was_ Rukia to consider however, as much as he hated to ruin his own amusing inclinations. She was very fond of drawing. She probably forced the red head to purchase art merchandise for her creative urges frequently.

"Wait! Where are you guys going?!" Ichigo cried. "What the hell is going on!?"

The hardwood felt cold beneath his feet, icy like the dark emotions screaming throughout his bedroom. The red head could feel it in the air, an odd sensation of looming sadness and despair. It weighed down on his broad shoulders like an anchor, straining his soul. The feeling of it felt like drowning. He could barely breathe. He was suffocating.

Rukia rose from her respectful position on the ground. She reached out carefully, wrapping her fragile fingers around Ichigo's muscular arm. He ripped his gaze from Urahara and Soi Fon to look at her. Her features were twisted into an emotion vaguely similar to seriousness. Her mouth remained taunt and stern, but her deep violet eyes were filled with pensive understanding.

"Ichigo... leave them be. It is best to not inquire on circumstances such as these. Soi Fon is here on official business. We have no right to question her actions." Rukia stated lightly, her fingers clenching the red head's strong appendage harshly.

"B-But she randomly...you can't... I mean... Rukia! What about Yoruichi?" Ichigo stuttered.

At the sound of the soul reaper's name, Soi Fon froze. The warrior closed her eyes and tried to breath deeply. Her heart ached at the sound of her mentor's name. It had been quite awhile since they had last seen each other. It hurt to even ponder their last meeting. After several moments of contemplation, the Captain scowled and continued to move towards the open window. There was a time and place for most thoughts and things.

"Let's go Kisuke. We have much to speak about." Soi Fon stated briskly.

Urahara slowly nodded and continued to move forwards. The shop keeper's robes fluttered softly with his every stride. He had to leave. The man had no choice. It was never smart to leave Soi Fon waiting. He had done so once in the past, and the decision caused him much annoyance.

Ichigo watched in horror as the shop keeper kept moving forward. The man's actions were simply crazy! Was he going to offer an explanation at all? How many problems did Kisuke have exactly? Was Yoruichi just one of them? How could the teen possibly trust a man who simply came and went as his pleased?

"Kisuke-"

"Shut up, Ichigo!" Rukia growled quietly under her breath. "What did I tell you already!?"

The red head frowned and elbowed his comrade lightly. "_I don't care about what you said!_ I want to know what is going on! I have the right to know what is happening with those two! They both barged in here after all!"

Urahara stopped for a moment, turning around to face both Rukia and Ichigo. Soi Fon groaned in annoyance behind him. Her hand rested hesitantly on the cool window ledge. She looked livid. An aura of flame seemingly surrounded her body. It danced across her alabaster skin in time with her heart beat. Anger. It was as familiar to her as Yoruichi's friendly smile. Anger had reigned through her life for quite some time, and she didn't expect it to leave.

"Meet me at the shop tomorrow, Ichigo. I'll expect to see you both there." The shop keeper stated strongly, before turning to confront Soi Fon again.

Ichigo lurched forward, intent on torturing Urahara with random questions and inquires. However, Rukia tightened her grip on his arm. He froze momentarily, stuck in an awkward position. The raven haired shinigami's touch burned. The heat of her hand melted through the blue fabric of his shirt, seeping into his tanned skin and the muscle beyond. Rukia was serious.

Kisuke waved goodbye, dangling his fingers fruitfully in the air, before disappearing in a flash of shunpo with Soi Fon. Ichigo blinked repeatedly, trying to fully comprehend the situation. He had never been more confused in his entire life. What was going on? Urahara had appeared, pleading for assistance like a prisoner in jail, then Soi Fon had instantly shown up at his house. Something was wrong.

The red headed teen sighed audibly, running his free hand through his messy orange tresses. Rukia still had a hold of his arm. She clung to it desperately, her fingernails digging into his skin like miniature daggers set upon destruction. Small pin pricks of pain flowed across his skin in waves. She was worried. He could feel it in the way she clutched his arm. He slowly turned to face her petite form.

"Rukia... what do you think is going on?" He questioned, his heart beating frantically against his rib cage.

The raven haired shinigami stared into his brown orbs thoughtfully. She absentmindedly toyed with a crumpled piece of white paper on the ground with her foot. She looked extremely distraught within the darkness of his bedroom. Frustration radiated off of her smooth skin wickedly. It seemed to travel through the air contagiously.

"I... I do not know, Ichigo. It is bad. I can feel it." She mumbled quietly, clenching Ichigo's arm tighter. "Yoruichi is just the beginning."

She could not explain the dark feeling that caressed her insides crudely. It was a feeling of complete apprehension, horror, fear, and doubt. She had the sudden urge to tell the red head her feelings, but sided against it. It would be cruel to place such a burden on his shoulders. She had already infiltrated his life, filling his every waking moment with a never ending nightmare. He didn't need to know how conflicted she was feeling. It would be unfair.

Rukia continued to peer into Ichigo's chocolate brown eyes. She sought out solitude within those thoughtful orbs. For a moment, she felt safe. As long as Ichigo was around, her world would remain vacant of rain. She hated to admit it to herself, but the stubborn, hot headed, pain in the ass of a human boy, meant something to her. As long as he continued to breathe, she would have something to live for. After all, she couldn't imagine a world without Ichigo in it.

* * *

_Click. Click. Click._

Kisuke Urahara sat silently on the floor. His long slender fingers fiddled with the plain white tea cup in his hands. The man twirled and spun the mug playfully along the short brown table. It seemed to dance and move all by itself. If the shop keeper was alone, he would have certainly cheered with glee. Sadly, Urahara was not unaccompanied. Soi Fon, Captain of the second division sat solemnly across from him. A dark expression was plastered on her features. She did not seem to enjoy Kisuke's childish behaviour.

"How long do you plan on doing that for?" The warrior questioned wearily.

The former Captain did not reply. He just continued fidgeting with the small object in his hands. It was as if Soi Fon's wrath did not effect the man in the slightest. The woman frowned angrily. She did not search all day long for no particular reason. She had an important purpose that needed to be fulfilled.

_"Hey!"_ Soi Fon yelled powerfully. She smashed her petite fists against Urahara's tea table for an extra effect. The surface shook and teetered violently. She needed to desperately gain the man's attention. The woman could not afford to waste any more valuable time.

The Captain's plan seemed to be quite effective. Urahara directed his focus to Soi Fon's delicate looking face. He squinted his brown orbs and tilted his blonde head at a slight angle. The short woman frowned and sent a dangerous glare towards the shop keeper. The man was analyzing her. Studying her. Tearing her apart piece by piece with his determined gaze.

"I don't enjoy being gawked at Kisuke. Especially by the likes of you." Soi Fon growled in a condescending tone.

Urahara did not move a muscle. He was unaffected by Soi Fon's crude comment. He simply continued staring like she was the only thing in his world. The corners of the shop keeper's mouth pointed towards the ceiling sharply. A ghost of a grin. It was enough to light a sudden anger in the Captain's veins. The man knew he was bothering the young warrior. It was plain as day. Kisuke's antics creeped under Soi Fon's skin and terrorized everything the woman knew.

"I'm just a sweet, kind hearted, _wonderful_, shop keeper. I wouldn't gawk at _anyone_." Kisuke stated, a large smile twisting deviously across his handsome features.

Soi Fon scowled. She hated Urahara with a flaming a passion. She had never felt such agitation before. Not with her subordinates, or her comrades. Kisuke Urahara ignited a deadly fuse within the depths of her soul. A fuse intent on wearing thin. She could feel it deep within her body, bubbling with anticipation. It would be simple to kill him. Soi Fon regarded Urahara through narrowed eyes. One flick of her wrist would do the trick. One simple thought out movement could be the end of him. Yet, she knew better. Kisuke wasn't a man to trifle with.

"I didn't come to the world of the living to take part in your playful banter. I am here on official Gotei Thirteen business. Head Captain Yamamoto sent me on a mission. An _important _mission. If you don't get a hold of yourself, I _will _kill you." Soi Fon stated coldly, griping the hilt of her Zanpakuto violently. Urahara continued to smile.

"Do you have orders to kill me, Soi Fon?" Kisuke asked politely, fiddling with the fragile piece of porcelain between his fingers again. The Captain of squad two glared at Urahara deeply.

"No, unfortunately. My offer still stands however. You're a traitor, to kill you would be nothing." Soi Fon retracted her hand from her Zanpakuto angrily, clenching her fists.

He had no right to question her authority. The very inclination made her blood boil. Soi Fon did not know what had possessed Yoruichi to befriend Urahara. He was rude, inconsiderate, and devious. Yet Yoruichi had seen something in him, something no one else had took the time to notice. Soi Fon still couldn't see what had caught her attention back then. Even if Soi Fon could, she would have blocked it out. Yoruichi had been wrong, in her opinion.

"Killing me is against your jurisdiction. It would bring you nothing but bad tidings from Yoruichi, I believe. You would have killed me long ago, if not for her." The shop keeper stated, staring deep into Soi Fon's deadly grey eyes.

The Captain of the second division frowned. Unfortunately, he had been correct. Soi Fon couldn't bring herself to do it. As much as she hated Urahara, she couldn't get rid of him. Yoruichi loved him. She could see it, despite the ease in which she fought to deny it. She couldn't betray Yoruichi's trust. That action would tear their friendship to shredded pieces of nothing.

"Enough of this senseless talking!" Soi Fon rose swiftly out of her seat, snatching and tossing the fragile piece of china between Urahara's fingers into one of the green walls of his shop.

The cup shattered as it collided with the wall, cascading onto the floor in a series of broken moments. Kisuke remained relatively passive. He stared at her as if she was one of his science experiments. A mere insect to observe, a shard of useless metal in a complicated device. Urahara didn't seem to care.

"I have been sent here for a very _specific _reason. Head Captain Yamamoto sent me to inspect the Shinigami assigned in Karakura Town. Soul reapers are disappearing unexpectedly. Not just in the world of the living, but in Soul Society as well. It all seems suspicious to me. As much as I hate to admit it, I need your help. I _know _you know something. Your pathetic act in front of that Kurosaki child said as much. Spill your guts. Or else." Soi Fon explained quickly, glaring at Urahara violently.

Kisuke sighed and placed his head lazily between both of his hands. His warm brown eyes immediately darkened at the words that slipped through Soi Fon's mouth. The man gazed at broken shards of china on the floor in deep thought.

"Is that why you are here? To inspect other Shinigami? _To locate me?"_

Soi Fon grimaced as she pondered the shop keeper's statement. "Inspect is not the appropriate word. I am only here to pin point and locate soul reapers. Not watch them harness battle skills." The Captain paused to further contemplate her situation. "And no, I am not here to find _you_. I am here to gather valuable information that _you_ have."

Kisuke raised his fair eyebrows in question. If the warrior was truly looking for other Shinigami, she would be outside with the rest of her team. Not sitting in his store. It seemed as if the woman was avoiding the truth in her story. Something vital was missing. A fact that she did not want to admit. None the less, the man discarded his thought and observed the Captain deeply. At least the woman was partially aware of the information he possessed. That would make his job a little more easier.

"What makes you think I would be willing to reveal any information?" Kisuke said softly.

Soi Fon scoffed and placed her hands along the edge of the worn table. "I am the leader of squad two. _The stealth force_. I will pry the data out of you no matter the cost."

Urahara smiled lightly. The expression lit up his handsome features dimly. That reply was to be expected. It was basically typical of the Captain after all.

"There is no need to be so serious." Kisuke stated confidently. "I am just playing with you."

Soi Fon growled and clenched her fists roughly. "This is no time for games! Just tell me what you know!"

The shop keeper closed his orbs and breathed deeply. The man was further preparing himself for the Captain's wrath. He knew that the petite woman had partially overheard the conversation he had shared with Ichigo and Rukia. Despite this knowledge, Urahara was unsure of himself. How much did Soi Fon discover? She obviously knew nothing about Yoruichi's disappearance. That fact was sure to cause a violent uproar. Maybe it was best if the man just began there.

"How much did you overhear at the Kurosaki home? You did say you noticed something a little...odd?" Urahara questioned sincerely.

"I heard enough. Your acting skills are horrible. We both know that Ichigo Kurosaki is _not _your only resort. Resort to what, I don't know. I overheard the drastic conclusion to your repulsive conversation." Soi Fon hissed between her teeth viscously.

Urahara raised his eyebrows in speculation. Somethings was off. The way Kisuke stared mindlessly into her grey orbs was enough of a hint. His soft brown eyes glowed with an emotion similar to sadness. Urahara didn't strike Soi Fon as an emotional individual. He was too analytical to feel anything in her opinion. However, that didn't stop the petite captain from questioning her own harsh belief.

"That is unfortunate. If you showed up a little earlier, you might have realized that I was talking about Yoruichi." Kisuke murmured hesitantly, ripping his depressing stare from Soi Fon's angry gaze.

The room became vacant. Soi Fon's heart dropped drastically in her chest. She felt as if she was falling from the sky like a helpless bird. Her wings were gone. She couldn't fly. The pale green walls of Urahara's shop seemed to suffocate her. Soi Fon could barely breathe. Yoruichi? A faint bout of anger sprouted within her chest, attempting to blossom into full fledged rage.

"Y-Yoruichi? What? You were asking the _substitute _soul reaper for assistance? What the hell are you talking about!" Soi Fon yelled loudly, her voice careening through out the room like an explosion. Urahara suppressed the urge to cover his ears.

"She's gone. I've looked everywhere for her. I can't sense her spiritual pressure either. I've tried searching for her spirit ribbon... but I seem to be out of touch with that ability. However, what you just stated has increased my interest immensely. If shinigami are disappearing in Soul Society as well as the world of the living..." Kisuke trailed off, staring deep into space.

"I warned you! I warned you to look out for her! Have you recently visited the last place her spiritual pressure was recorded? Have you!?" Soi Fon screamed, slamming her small fists against the surface of the circular table furiously.

Urahara noticed several jagged cracks appear in the polished wood of the table. Each crack was deep from the impact of her fisted hands, jutting across the shiny length of deceased vegetation like lightning. He resisted the urge to trace the crooked marks with the tips of his fingers. Soi Fon didn't understand. He had done everything in his power attempting to find Yoruichi. She was merely gone, like whispered words spoken into an unfavourable breeze.

"I've conducted various experiments, I've done everything I can. I've discovered a few things but nothing remarkably important. I asked for Ichigo's help for a reason. He bought my act easily. I need him to go to Soul Society. They'll listen to him, he has... a certain convincing charm about him. You know that they won't listen to me. I'm a traitor." Urahara retorted firmly, toying with a stray piece of green cotton on his robes.

Soi Fon unclenched her strained fingers in a series of antagonized movements. He was right. No one in their right mind would listen to Kisuke. He had broken the law years ago. The shop keeper had become nothing but a death deserving insect to the Gotei Thirteen and Central Forty Six.

"How do you suppose they'll listen to that Kurosaki boy? Or me, even if I try? Yoruichi is... she is like you. They won't care about her disappearance." The small Captain hissed quietly, suppressing the urge to hit the table again.

"I have my ways. Ichigo _will _be acknowledged, believe me. Things will become personal for him, sooner then you think. This disappearing problem... it will get worse. When that happens... things will get out of hand." The shop keeper said quietly.

Soi Fon regarded Urahara with a faint look of distaste. Pain and frustration loomed deep within her heart and soul. The feeling burned and ate away everything inside. It hurt knowing her friend was missing. Sadly, that was not the horrible part about the whole affair. The Captain knew that her mentor would not be found. So far, her own mission from soul society was failing miserably. Her team was not able to correctly locate certain soul reapers. It was concluded from extensive searching, that these individuals were dead.

The squad two Captain shivered resentfully. The warrior simply refused to accept her partner's permanent departure. It was impossible. Yoruichi was too strong to be defeated. She was simply stronger then the others.

"How do you know things will get worse, Kisuke? What proof do you have?" Soi Fon asked in a stubborn tone.

The shop keeper whistled and softly snatched the hat placed firmly upon his head. He examined the article closely for a few seconds. His eyebrows were clenched in speculation and his lips were formed into a strait line. He then scratched at the hat's surface. It appeared as if the man was attempting to rub away an obvious smudge.

"The evidence I have gathered is merely circumstantial."

The squad two Captain nodded in understanding. "I am willing to hear your theory. If it is not pointless, that is."

"I assure you, my idea is not worthless. It is small, but it is all that is available right now." Kisuke murmured fluidly. "It only confirms that there is a growing issue."

"Fine."

Kisuke dipped his head in acceptance. He was very surprised at the ease in which Soi Fon was staying calm. The man could have bet all his money on her completely freaking out. Her friend was missing and the woman's mission was obviously failing. In an extra effort, the shop keeper attempted to sense the Captain's spiritual pressure. Urahara shrugged his shoulders in mild shock. She seemed to have her energy controlled well despite the situation.

After regarding Soi Fon graciously, Kisuke smoothly placed his hat back on top of his unruly locks. He then closed his chocolate brown orbs calmly. It was time to reveal his inner thoughts. His personal opinion on the whole issue at hand.

"To begin, there has been increased hollow attacks in this area. Both Ichigo and Rukia have been working endlessly for months now. At first I thought everything was normal. Perfectly fine. But I then I began to notice an increase of Shinigami in Karakura Town as well. This obviously means that more hollows are becoming a problem." The shop keeper paused to further consider what he wanted to say. "Rukia Kuchiki has been here in the world of the living longer then normal. She usually stays at her post for several weeks at best, not months. If circumstances were ordinary, the girl would have been ordered to return to Soul Society already."

"Yes..." Soi Fon trailed off in contemplation. The woman had to admit, the shop keeper was on to something.

"I am not finished quite yet." Urahara smiled wearily before continuing. "With your arrival, new information has surfaced. Not only have there been startling disappearances here in the world of the living, but in Soul Society too. If you are here personally, the Gotei Thirteen must be getting concerned. If I recall, sending a Captain to the human world is certainly a big deal. Sadly, I don't think your superiors are too interested yet. You said the Soul Society thought these disappearances were normal?"

The second division Captain breathed in deeply. "No, not normal. They believe that some soul reapers have become rather reckless. Many keep leaving their posts without consent."

Kisuke opened his eyes and focused his attention on Soi Fon. He still believed that was too small a reason to send a high ranking officer to the world of the living. Maybe Soul Society was posting more Shinigami to the Karakura area? The shop keeper shook his blonde head. There had to be a better reason.

"Has anyone with a large amount of spiritual energy gone missing yet?"

"No." The Captain answered quickly. "Yoruichi would be the first."

Urahara laughed crudely, the viscous sound igniting the air with tension. Soi Fon didn't like the piercing harshness of his sarcastic laugh. It stabbed at her eardrums violently, picking apart her ravaged mind. The shop keeper was too intelligent for his own good. All of his crazy inclinations harboured a lingering aspect of truth. Soi Fon could believe it.

"Something is very wrong then indeed." The shop keeper stated solemnly. Soi Fon stared at him quizzically from across the cracked table surface. Urahara looked extremely tense. His face was contorted into a look of questionable fear. She had never seen Kisuke frightened before, not like this.

"What do you mean?" The warrior asked pensively, her voice harsh and demanding. Urahara shook his head.

"I am afraid that this is worse then I have originally anticipated. If my assumption is indeed correct, Yoruichi is just the beginning. More high level shinigami will begin to go missing. This problem is much like a game of dominoes. If one goes down... another is likely to follow." Urahara scratched his arm, completely agitated. "Sadly, I can't say who or what is doing this."

"You can't prove this... this theory! It is ridiculous! I mean... it is beyond all logic! I want to help but.." Soi Fon groaned.

Her frozen facade was chipping away. Urahara's crazy ideas were driving her insane. Things were beginning to get personal. Soi Fon wasn't used to feeling an abundance of emotion. She wasn't used to experiencing doubt, doubt in not only the Soul Society, but in herself. She was a captain and a leader. Emotions were human, emotions were meant for the weak. She couldn't afford to feel weak. She had to be strong. However, her strength was faltering. She simple refrained from seeing it.

"You're right. I can't prove it. But does that mean I'm wrong? I'm predicting the future. Things are going to get rough before they get better. As for your help? I thought you wanted nothing to do with me. Are you warming up to my bright personality Soi Fon?" Urahara smiled brightly, his cheery demeanour lighting up the room. Soi Fon knew that his smile was fake. She could feel it deep within her heart.

"I want _nothing _to do with you, Urahara. Unfortunately, this... _situation _is serious. I can't afford to turn a blind eye on all of this. I will help you for Yoruichi's sake. It is what she would have wanted." The squad two Captain peered sadly into her lap.

Kisuke stared at Soi Fon indecisively. Her raven locks cascaded down her shoulders, shining dimly within the warm light of the small tea room. Her narrow face was stoic in nature, frozen into an expression of constant distaste. Her grey eyes were different though, he could see it now. Yoruichi had mentioned something like it once, the emotion in Soi Fon's ash coloured eyes. It nearly slapped him in the face. As cold as she appeared, there was something strange about her. Urahara was willing to admit that.

"Good. I'm glad you've decided to join me on this... little adventure." The shop keeper announced sarcastically. The small Captain rolled her eyes, rising to her feet in a series of agile moments too fast to decipher.

"I think I've been in your company long enough. Goodbye Kisuke. Give the Kurosaki boy my deepest condolences. I did not mean to intrude on his personal space. _You _happened to be in the way."

Soi Fon inhaled a sharp breath, looking around the small tea room quickly. The walls were a pale shade of intrusive green. She really didn't like the colour. It reminded her of Urahara. He seemed highly obsessed with the earthy tone, despite the odd tints and shades of almost everything he owned. The floors were aged and worn by years of constant walking. Thick grooves lined almost every inch of available wood in the room. The sliding doors were simple and the air smelled musty like a dark attic. She couldn't comprehend how Kisuke had tolerated such a shady place.

"Are you going to apologize to me? You harassed me, threatened me, and broke my favourite tea cup." The shop keeper asked politely, resting his hands carefully on the table in front of him. Soi Fon smiled. It was completely condescending.

"No. I harassed you because you are an impertinent pig. I threatened you because I _do _intend on killing you one day, and yes. I broke your tea cup. Guess what? I don't give a damn." The Captain continued to smile, pulling away from the circular table, stalking heavily towards the simple sliding doors.

"Is that all?" Kisuke pondered, fiddling with several deep grooves on the wooden table.

"No. I will attempt to involve Soul Society in all of this. However, I know for a fact that they won't listen. Also, I intend on searching for Lady Yoruichi, despite your findings. She will always mean more to me then she ever has to you." Soi Fon hissed, eyeing the shop keeper with varying looks of distain.

Before Kisuke could playfully retort, Soi Fon, Captain of the second division, disappeared in a whirl wind of shunpo. Urahara frowned, shaking his head back and forth. Soi Fon would forever remain distorted in his eyes, fragmented into pieces of frustration and annoyance. The shop keeper couldn't help but feel such complicated emotions towards her. She was too perplexing in his opinion. But, he had a slim feeling that he had somehow chipped her icy masquerade. He was getting to her, and that fact was enough to relish in.

Kisuke smiled, rising swiftly from his seat. He had successfully chipped Soi Fon's icy mask of indifference. All he had to do was wait. Soon, her cold facade would crumble. That was all he could truly hope for.

* * *

**Hey guys! This chapter was very intriguing to write! A LOT of information was dished out, which equates to an overwhelming amount of thinking on your part. At least you all know why Kisuke was acting rather pathetic last chapter! He is a little schemer! :P Things are starting to get more and more complicated and interesting! :) We would like to thank the following people:**

**TTY7  
Mr. Eclipse  
JJB91  
TheHedgehog22**

**You guys are all awesome! A HUGE thank you goes out to all of you avid readers as well. Please continue to read, follow, favourite, and review! It makes us really happy! Sort of like Kon when he ambushes Rukia! He _is _particularly perverted however... oh well! :P**

**~IronEclipse**

**-CrystalShardsOfRain**

**Disclaimer: (We do not own Bleach!)**


	4. Chapter 4

_'It is useful to feel fear, because it prepares you for nasty events, or is it useless, because nasty events will occur whether you are frightened or not?'  
~Lemony Snicket_

* * *

The sun hung low in the evening sky, like a dew drop on the cusp of slipping off of a leaf. Darkness was beginning to creep inconspicuously among the edges of various sun beams, preparing to take flight. Night was descending upon day, and day was falling ceremoniously into night. The absence of light was almost unforgivable. The sun embraced the pavement in a final crescendo of brightness, kissing the ground goodbye. Trees swayed lethargically in the breeze, shaking the fading warmth of the sun out of their green tresses. The day was ending. The world stood still.

Ichigo scowled as the setting sun warmed his back. He didn't want the sun to disappear behind the horizon. He wanted to forcefully pluck it out of the pale magenta sky. He wanted to thrust the sun backwards. He wanted to rewind time. His final day of peace was coming to a close. Once the sun was replaced by the moon, his peace would shatter. He could already feel it collapsing into a thousand little pieces, fading into darkness like the sunset behind his back.

The red head continued to walk down the street, Rukia beside him. They had recently fled his chaotic household, abandoning their bodies in exchange for their shinigami forms. They both wore long flowing soul reaper kimonos, each black length of cloth wavering gingerly in the breeze. Pale traditional sandals adorned their agile feet, along with white socks. Ichigo's zanpakuto was strapped to his back tightly, waiting patiently for use. Rukia's soul cutter was firmly attached to her hip. They were prepared for their mission.

Ichigo tore his brown gaze from the pavement to look at the raven haired shinigami. They had remained passive for most of the day, acknowledging each others presence with quiet interest. It was odd. Most of Ichigo's friends had noticed his serene silence with disapproval. They wanted to know why he was acting so tranquil. They wanted to know why he had ignored Rukia for most of the day at school. The red head didn't have a plausible answer, neither did Rukia for that matter. They enjoyed the day in silence, for it was their last few hours of peace.

Rukia sighed. The sudden softness of the noise filled the air slowly. It sounded musical, like trickling water cascading down a lazy stream.

"What?" Ichigo questioned smoothly.

The boy did not mean to intrude on the calm that had been established all day. He merely wished to understand the reason for Rukia's delicate outburst. The confrontation was sure to force his rampaging thoughts to a stand still. After all, Ichigo was anxiously anticipating the meeting that was to occur with Urahara. There was not one moment in which his uneasiness ceased. It twisted around the teen's body at an unrelenting speed, creating a whirlwind of pure terror.

The petite death god turned her head to examine Ichigo passively. The woman's gaze seemed to penetrate the boy deeply. Her violet orbs reached into the depths of the red head's soul. It was clear that she was feeling concerned as well. It was written across the deep worry lines on her forehead. The raven haired girl's fears were not only about the meeting with Kisuke, but Yoruichi's disappearance. What was going to happen? What exactly were they going to discover?

"Nothing." Rukia stated calmly.

Ichigo opened his creamy brown eyes and stared at his friend skeptically. She was lying. Although Rukia was excellent at acting, she always seemed to fail in his perspective. He noticed every nervous twitch in her limbs and her overly warm smile. The raven haired girl's grin was not genuine, and that bothered him.

"Don't make me pry it out of you, Rukia. I am not a complete dumb ass. I know when you are putting on a show." Ichigo muttered humbly.

Rukia rolled her violet orbs violently, ignoring Ichigo's mundane protest. It was unlike the red head to worry so much. However, it was all the more normal to witness Ichigo worry on the behalf of other people. She could see it in the way he stared at her, his gaze filled with icy agitation and concern. He held an abundance of empathy deep inside of his heart. It was in his nature to secretly care, despite his tough persona.

"Stop worrying about me. I hate when you do this. I can keep care of myself, you know. It's not like I'm fussing over you." Rukia stated, kicking a stray pebble on the pavement.

She had lied again. Ichigo frowned, his trade mark scowl disappearing in a flash of melancholy concern. She cared about him, it was obvious. As much as they fought, screamed, and argued with each other, it was an undeniable fact. They had spent years building their relationship, whatever it was. Rukia was there for him, and he was always there for her.

"Oh really? Then why the hell am I _constantly _saving you all of the time? God Rukia... you're such an idiot. You might as well worship me where you stand." Ichigo mumbled, ripping his chocolate brown gaze from her petite form to stare at the road again.

"Ha! You wish. Like I'd _ever _worship the ground _you _walk on! I'd rather die then do_ that_." The raven haired midget stated sarcastically.

Ichigo snorted, staring avidly at various telephone poles. They were nearing Urahara's shop. He could see it in the distance, a faint blur of wooden brown and green. It appeared to be awfully shady and creepy for a supposedly 'normal' business. It looked conspicuous in the twilight, obscured in dark stripes of shadow. The small store seemed to be empty and abandoned. An odd looking van stood apart from the dark abyss the shop was. It was a small cry from normalcy.

Silence hung in the air between them like hideous wall paper. Ichigo wanted to tear it down. The red head continued to walk, his feet occasionally dragging against the cold tarmac. The sound was almost comforting. He could hear it rumble around in his jumbled cranium like a song stuck on repeat. It engulfed his mind in soft noise. Then, there was Rukia. Her breathing sounded laboured beside him, as if she had recently completed a two kilometre run. It wasn't in her nature to appear nervous. It was annoying.

"Stop breathing so loud. You're demolishing my inner tranquility." Ichigo whined loudly, a small smirk resting on his lips.

Rukia snorted and shook her small head fiercely. Her short black locks tumbled and swayed lightly in the summer breeze. Sometimes, the girl honestly thought Ichigo was mental. He always seemed to come up with rude comments and preposterous ideas.

"Really? The look on your face suggests otherwise."

The young teenager growled and sent the small woman a narrow glare. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Rukia laughed roughly. The sound was similar to that of gravel on a bumpy and rugged road. The girl knew that Ichigo was feeling slightly insecure. His face was an unnatural shade of white, which was an odd contrast to the shadowy robes that adorned the boy's muscular figure.

"If I didn't know any better, I would say that you are a little scared." Rukia replied cautiously.

The red head immediately froze. It was as if icy water had been dumped down the teen's back. It curled and plunged his mind into a sudden deep abyss. He knew that Rukia's comment was only meant to be playful, but today it felt wrong. There was something serious going on. Last night's events proved that idea completely. If Ichigo was feeling fear, he accepted it. He had every possible reason to.

"What if I am?" Ichigo whispered. All traces of humour and happiness had left his face.

Rukia frowned and moved her body to face Ichigo. She took in his towering figure like a tall glass of water. Fear was a horrible thing. Sadly the midget had to admit, she felt it too. The emotion haunted her every thought and movement, much like an unwavering storm cloud. What if Yoruichi's disappearance was the beginning of a huge problem? The world was not ready for another catastrophe. Azien was an issue that had yet to be resolved.

"Ichigo..." Rukia trailed off in thought.

The woman did not know what to say. She only shifted her gaze over towards the shop, which seemed to be chilled in time. Despite the store's coarse exterior, it was completely timeless. It had survived years of battle and destruction from both hollows and shinigami alike. The shop was a beacon of hope. As long as the place stood intact, it would shelter and protect everything.

Rukia sighed. The raven haired girl knew what she had to do. Her comrade needed comfort, and she was not about to let him suffer alone. Without a second thought, Rukia turned and reached her hand out timidly. She gently grasped Ichigo's long, calloused fingers within her own tarnished digits. The red head jumped in surprise. The woman shook her head and forced herself to look deep into the boy's chocolate brown orbs. Heat blossomed across Rukia's cheeks unevenly.

At first, Rukia noticed nothing in particular. But suddenly, everything seemed to transform. The worry in the red head's eyes immediately softened into kindness. I was an emotion the woman was quite used to. But the longer she stared, the more drastic things started to become. Rukia was beginning to observe another emotion. Something far less familiar.

"Ichigo... it is okay to feel fear." Rukia mumbled, her breath hitching in her throat. "I feel it too."

She was frightened too. Rukia could feel it deep within her bones. It ripped her sturdy stability into tender pieces of nothing. Fear was an object of truth. She couldn't deny it or truly accept it. It lingered defiantly, tormenting her subconscious for a reason as ridiculous as the notion of fear itself. The raven haired shinigami grew from fear. Her battle skills sprouted from fright. Fear drove her every action, will, and movement.

"Fear only makes us stronger. Fear gives us the will to fight, to love, and to conquer the impossible. Without the feeling of fear... how can we possibly define who we are? This will pass." Rukia stated strongly, her heart thumping madly within the cavity that contained it.

Ichigo grasped her small fingers tighter, his warmth flooding into her pale skin. The red head looked tremendously forlorn. His head hung low, much like a branch weighted with a heavy blanket of snow. His unruly orange locks cascaded roughly down his face, obscuring his features in shadow. Each spike dangled lifelessly, no longer filled with erect stability. Ichigo looked deflated, like a strangled balloon.

"I know that, Rukia. I'm not as stupid as you seem to think sometimes. But... I can't help but feel as if there's something more happening here. Not just with Yoruichi... I don't know." The boy paused for several moments. His eye brows curved dangerously. "Don't worry about me. I'm probably spewing out nonsense." Ichigo exclaimed, untangling his fingers from Rukia's small spindly digits.

A profound feeling of loss overwhelmed Rukia's small form, as Ichigo's warmth diminished from her petite fingers. She frowned, examining her hand fruitfully. She could still feel the hesitant pressure of the red head's scarred palm against her own. She could still faintly recall the rough texture of his tanned skin, even the faint feeling of puckered scars against her fingertips. Rukia tensed, clenching her hand into a fist. There were more important things to mindlessly wonder about.

"Who said that I was worrying about you? You're so self absorbed sometimes." The raven haired woman taunted playfully, a witty smile lingering on the corner of her mouth.

Ichigo scowled deeply. She had completely ruined whatever _thing _they had just shared. It was much like Rukia to instantaneously destroy odd moments of understanding between them. It annoyed Ichigo tremendously. She made their relationship complicated, in his opinion. Why couldn't they be like normal people? Why couldn't they speak without insulting each other? Why couldn't they be like everyone else? The red head internally sighed. That was their problem. Their relationship said otherwise.

"You're an idiot, Rukia." The red head hissed between clenched teeth.

The short death god only smiled and quickly twisted her body away from Ichigo's larger frame. The girl then began to run rather quickly towards Urahara's shop. The red head groaned and rolled his eyes. How could Rukia possibly _run_ to Kisuke's store? The woman had basically confessed her fear of going near the place moments before. It was certainly official. Rukia had serious problems.

"Hey!" Ichigo yelled loudly. "Wait for me!"

The only response the teen heard, was an unruly shout from the front of Kisuke's small business. Rukia had obviously made it to their targeted destination. Ichigo swiftly shook his head. His short orange locks wavered uneasily through the air. He had better get moving. With a flash of shunpo, the red head was gone.

* * *

"Well, it took you two long enough." Kisuke chanted happily. "I thought you were going to be late."

Ichigo furrowed his brow in thought. He certainly did _not_ remember Urahara mentioning a dead line. Or a meeting time, if he was to explain correctly. In fact, the red head recalled a slight conflict about the damn time. The shop keeper refused to determine the hour in which they were supposed to arrive at his home. So with that conclusion, how could the man possibly accuse both Rukia and Ichigo of being tardy?

"What are you talking about?" Ichigo demanded roughly.

The former squad twelve leader grinned. The expression stretched across the man's face fluidly. The movement reminded Ichigo of a swipe of butter across a bagel. Simple and completely effortless.

Rukia suddenly sighed and focused her attention on her surroundings. The woman was not sure whether she wanted to participate in the conversation quite yet. A green tea room with tall walls and a dark opposing attitude surrounded everyone present in the gloomy territory. There was a circular table in the centre of the area. The piece of furniture was certainly more damaged then the desk in Ichigo's room. Several long, jagged, and deeply placed cracks adorned the objects surface. The devastation seemed relatively recent. Even tiny shards of china lined the wooden floor. The remains of a tea cup, perhaps?

Despite the raven haired girl's observations, she was sure that Kisuke was going to play more confusing word games. In was in the man's nature to do so after all. The store owner had fun toying with peoples minds.

"Ah, Ichigo. Have you looked outside?" The shop paused to point out a window casually. "It is getting dark out."

The red head scowled and scratched the back of his head in annoyance. He knew that this was bound to occur. It was practically destiny after all. Every time the teen attempted to scramble out of his home in a rush, his father tended to get involved. These interferences usually wasted valuable time. But of course, Kisuke would not know that. It was not like the man lived with the Kurosaki child.

"We got tied up." Ichigo said lightly. Urahara raised a slim blonde brow in question.

The boy scowled and clenched his worn hands against his sides. "I have an interesting family life, okay? It can be difficult trying to..._escape."_

Both Kisuke and Rukia smirked at their friend's description. It was definitely and interesting one to say the least. Did Ichigo really dislike his family that much? In thought, the raven haired woman closed her light purple orbs. _No._ Ichigo Kurosaki did _not_ hate his family. He _loved_ every single person in it. Hence the reason why he wished to become a substitute soul reaper in the first place.

"The hardships of love..." Kisuke mumbled coherently under his breath.

Ichigo scowled, his face transforming into a viscous pool of emotion. In his opinion, love had nothing to do with his father's odd bouts of annoying behavior. His dad's actions had more to do with pain then heart stopping love. The side of his face throbbed chaotically just thinking about it. Only one individual could rival Isshin Kurosaki's round house kicks. That person was Rukia Kuchiki. The throbbing doubled in intensity as Ichigo thought about her evil foot jabs.

"That's what you think." Ichigo muttered, absentmindedly touching his left cheek with his hand.

Urahara smiled, scratching the bristle on his chin in deep thought. As much as he wanted to torment the young substitute soul reaper, he had more important things to attend to. His meeting with Soi Fon the night before had churned the inner workings of his mind. The shop keeper couldn't afford to waste any more time. The information he had gained lingered on the tip of his tongue like a canker. He had to get rid of it.

"As much as I enjoy the conversation we're sharing, I hardly believe that it is appropriate. I have recently gained a substantial amount of information from Captain Soi Fon of squad two. I'd like to divulge that knowledge as soon as possible before I send you two on your task." Urahara stated firmly, tapping his fingers on the wooden table playfully. He couldn't disclose all he had learned. Not yet, anyway.

"As you wish, Kisuke." Rukia muttered, dragging Ichigo harshly onto the floor with one of her hands.

The red head muttered several curses under his breath before he reluctantly sat down beside the raven haired shinigami. The hardwood floor felt cold beneath his slender fingers. He could feel various scratches against the tips of digits, each long groove rough and worn. The flooring had suffered years of unrelenting friction and weight. It was almost comforting, in an odd way.

"To begin, this information may be... particularly startling. I know I brought you both here to locate Yoruichi, but circumstances have changed. Don't misinterpret what I am saying. Yoruichi will always be one of your priorities. What you are about to learn will add more of a burden on your shoulders." The shop keeper said quietly, his gaze nailing Ichigo and Rukia intensely.

Rukia shuddered involuntarily, her small frame trembling slightly from the sudden movement. A wave of darkness crashed into her soul like a violent tide, washing away her resolve. She could feel it again. Fear. It plagued her body incessantly, eroding her stoic facade away with every intentional swipe of blackness that caressed her insides. Something was wrong. Something was _always _wrong.

"Yoruichi is not the only individual to have gone missing. Multiple shinigami have vanished in Soul Society as well. Soi Fon was sent to the world of the living to look into the issue. She came to me for assistance. The data she shared with me was rather short, but it was enough. I have come to the conclusion that more shinigami will eventually disappear. When one falls, another will follow." Kisuke stated throughly, picking at the wooden surface of the circular table.

"What?" Rukia spluttered unevenly. "More soul reapers are going to go missing? What are the facts behind your assumption exactly?"

The shop keeper breathed deeply. The man did not wish to reveal his complete theory to Ichigo and Rukia quite yet. He knew the information would only cloud both the soul reaper's judgement. It was difficult tracking a fellow shinigami with worry on one's mind. Kisuke knew that best. He had suffered under that fact relentlessly for days.

"Trust me. It is best if you do not know that information right now."

_"What?"_ Ichigo questioned loudly. "_That's it?_ I thought you were going to tell us more? You just made the whole situation seem worse! God, what a waste of dramatics!"

Urahara closed his warm brown eyes. He did not know how many more questions and insults he could take. Why couldn't his friends understand? The store owner was only trying to relieve a _small_ burden from Ichigo and Rukia's shoulders. He would tell them the remainder of the facts when they returned from their search. Plus it wasn't like Kisuke knew much anyway. The man only knew the bare basics. He was still coming up with a more plausible theory. Something that hopefully had to do with_ who_ or _what_ was making everyone disappear.

"Did I not tell you to trust me?" Urahara sang light heartedly.

Ichigo narrowed his gaze. The boy was finding it_ very_ difficult to trust the slippery shop keeper. What if he was sending them on a wind goose chase? What if the man was lying about the whole situation? It wasn't like Urahara had done it before. Sadly, a part of the red head's mind thought otherwise. He _knew_ that Kisuke was telling the truth. Why else would Soi Fon literally attack the man in his room?

"Fine." Ichigo stated savagely. His amber stare bored jagged holes into the shady man before him. "But, you better fill us in soon."

Urahara dipped his head in approval. His pale hair shimmered softly in the yellow light. He understood the boy's concern. The shop keeper hated having questions unanswered. Maybe that was the reason why he strived to discover explanations for every possible problem.

"I will, my fine friend. Do not worry. I most certainly will." Kisuke said softly. The man silently vowed that he would keep his promise. It was the least he could do.

"Urahara?" Rukia murmured smoothly. The woman's voice cascaded lightly through the air. It seemed to float around like a silken feather.

"Yes?"

"As you said earlier, it is getting _quite_ dark out." The raven haired girl muttered quietly.

Both Urahara and Ichigo took the time to note the colour of the sky outside one of the many plain windows. The midget had not lied when she reminded everyone about the current state of the day. The sun was most certainly beginning to hide it's flaming red head behind the horizon. Shadow was starting to steadily appear behind every object. It cut and consumed everything in it's path. Much like a hollow in many obvious aspects. Urahara chuckled lightly.

"Yes. I suppose you two should be on your way now. I have one last thing for you both..." Kisuke hastily rose from his comfortable position on the floor.

In a series of quick movements, the shop had crossed the hardwood. His clogs struck the ground, scratching the weathered flooring like fingernails on a chalkboard. Ichigo suppressed the sudden urge to cover his ears. He hated Urahara's odd taste in footwear. He found it highly aggravating, especially when Kisuke dragged his feet.

Ichigo and Rukia watched as the shop keeper grabbed an old worn piece of paper from a mahogany shelf in the corner of the tea room. It stood tall and menacing, cascading various shadows across the dimly lit floor boards. Kisuke dangled the frail rectangular piece of paper fruitfully between his fingers before crossing the room once more.

"Here." The shop keeper stated confidently, thrusting the paper into Rukia's small hands.

Rukia and Ichigo both peered at the piece of parchment pensively. It appeared to be a crudely scribbled map of Karakura Town. Each blotchy scratch was wobbly and careless, various lines melting into each other in several places. Dark inky streaks enveloped most of the paper, obscuring multiple street names and locations. Ichigo could barely make out the large rectangular block that Urahara's shop was suppose to be. The map was horrible.

"What the hell is this suppose to be? A treasure map?" The red head hissed between his teeth, eyeing Urahara with varying looks of distain. The former Captain of squad twelve continued to smile.

"Precisely. Tessai made it for me. I was busy uploading information on Rukia's soul pager. He decided to create a map for you guys. I'll admit that his penmanship isn't all it's cracked up to be, but it's nothing you two can't handle. Follow the arrows. You'll find what you're looking for." Kisuke folded his arms across his chest, his mouth split in half.

"What?" Rukia challenged briskily. "When did you get my soul pager?"

The store owner laughed softly under his breath. The sound was similar to that of an uncomfortable child. Kisuke knew that the raven haired girl's piece of equipment was quite important to her. It rarely left her side. In fact, the small silver contraption seemed to be glued to her hip. It took Urahara ages to politely 'borrow' the thing.

"I took the liberty of snatching it from you last night. While you were occupied with...other _activities_." Kisuke chanted lightly.

Rukia quickly sent a dark glare in the shop keeper's direction. She did not remember losing her soul pager at all. The woman was sure it was still placed in her pocket. It had not tumbled onto the floor or had been discarded at Ichigo's home. In a blunt series of movements, the midget reached into the folds of her robes. Her small fingertips moved around quickly, trying to find the familiar smooth surface of her contraption.

"You're only going to find a fake!" Kisuke sang warmly.

Rukia froze as her scarred hands found the polished cover of her unique phone. What did Urahara say? This soul pager was a fake? How was that possible?

_"What!"_ The petite death god roared angrily. "_Do you know what you have done?_!"

Urahara shook his head slowly. His blonde locks tumbled through the air happily. "Of course."

Kisuke's statement only made Rukia angrier. Even Ichigo's face was beginning to turn into a dull pink. Everyone in the room knew that messing with Kuchiki's soul pager resulted in death. Rukia took her job very seriously. The small silver object was the woman's only connection to Soul Society. Especially while on missions.

"Really? Do you know how many hollows could have attacked? Do you know how many innocent souls and humans died because of your little crime!" Rukia spat out venomously.

"Calm down, my friend. Did I not tell you that Soi Fon is here with some of her division members? That is more then enough shinigami to target and kill any, if not _all_ hollows in the area. You two deserved a break and some sleep, might I add." Kisuke said swiftly.

Rukia clenched the map between her fingers harshly. The edges crumbled dangerously, caving inwards like an unstable cave. Urahara was a devious man, a man who always seemed to have something hiding up his sleeves. Sometimes, his characteristic trait of cleverness was a good thing. Other times, it was not. The raven haired shinigami scowled. It took conspicuous grace to steal something valuable without a leaving behind a single trace of evidence.

"Let's go, Ichigo. As much as I'd like to _thank _Urahara, we have places to be." Rukia announced, shoving the makeshift map deep within her black shihakusho.

She grabbed Ichigo's arm, pulling him off of the floor. He groaned loudly, scratching his orange tresses with his free hand. The red head was growing tired of Rukia's man handling. He could already feel slight pin pricks of pain where her fingers connected with his skin. Her grip was strong, despite the ease in which he could have easily doubted her strength. The pressure of her small digits was enough to leave multiple bruises.

"One more thing," Kisuke muttered, freezing Rukia to her spot. "The information I placed on your phone pertains to the missing soul reapers. Everything I have recently shared with you two is on the hard drive of that device. It should be nothing you don't already know." Urahara stated pleasantly, sitting down at the circular table on the ground once more.

He snatched the 'real' soul pager from within the depths of his forest green robes and tossed it smoothy into Rukia's open hands. She flashed him a look of pure anger, before harshly throwing the shop keeper's fake cell phone towards the stripped bucket hat upon his head. Kisuke caught the silver device before it struck its intended location, stifling the urge to laugh with stubborn amusement.

Rukia nodded twice as Urahara caught the phone, her grip on Ichigo's arm tightening. The teen winced sharply, pulling his muscular appendage away from the raven haired midget in a series of harsh movements. He internally sighed, rubbing his bruised limb fervently. She had maimed his leading arm, the arm he held Zangetsu with. He knew Rukia's actions of dominance could possibly harm his battle capabilities in the long run. Not drastically of course. The minor pain she had caused was merely a nuisance.

Kisuke flashed a quick smile in their direction, wiggling his fingers exuberantly back and forth. The red head nodded, comprehending the shop keeper's playful wave as a dismissal. In a whirl wind of shunpo, both Ichigo and Rukia disappeared. Urahara's small smile widened precariously. They would be back soon. He was sure of it.

* * *

"Is this it?" Ichigo questioned roughly. The boy's voice was bitter and harsh, which contrasted oddly to their calm surroundings.

The red head was currently handling a rather worn map. It was the one that Kisuke had given Rukia before they had left the shop. The small piece of parchment was supposed to lead Ichigo and Rukia to Yoruichi's last known location. There were other areas strewn carelessly on the map, but the destination they were heading to seemed to be the most important one. It was circled exuberantly in red. Tessai had even took the time to draw arrows leading from the shop to the damn place.

Rukia sighed and looked around skeptically. "Yes. I took the coordinates of this location from the map and processed them through my soul pager. This site is the correct one. My device does not lie."

The teenager bowed his head in acceptance. He was well aware that Rukia's small shard of advanced technology was always accurate. It had never failed to find a hollow, or a fellow soul reaper. Sometimes the object malfunctioned, but there seemed to be a solution for that in most cases.

"Well that's good to hear." Ichigo muttered quietly. "I thought it would never end."

Rukia snorted and rolled her violet orbs. "We started our search twenty minutes ago, idiot. It's not like we had to track Yoruichi down clue after clue. Urahara did that for us."

The red head sighed and shifted his gaze around relentlessly. Trees seemed to be scattered randomly along the bright green grass that surrounded Ichigo and Rukia. There was no pavement to be seen. The two shinigami appeared to be stranded in an ocean of lush forest. The city of Karakura was lost in the suffocating darkness that the foliage provided. Only a thin sliver of moon hinted the freedom that lay beyond.

"I find that fact quite disturbing." The teenage boy whispered quietly.

The raven haired midget scoffed and faced her comrade fully. "Why? Kisuke did say he already tried to find Yoruichi. He probably recorded all of her favourite places and the spots he knew she liked."

Ichigo tilted his head and regarded Rukia with a blank expression. His orange locks fell unceremoniously into his warm brown eyes. "It seems too easy to me. Why did Urahara send us here _specifically_? It's like he wants us to find something completely obvious."

The teen also wondered why the man had _begged_ him and Rukia to search for Yoruichi. Urahara clearly appeared to be well prepared. He had already organized everything for the search. It was like the shop keeper _wanted_ them to use their skills purposefully. It was as if Kisuke _expected_ Rukia and Ichigo to be standing in the silent forest clearing. It almost seemed like everything was_ planned out_. Despite the blunt horror of the red head's thoughts, he decided to keep quiet. There was no need to worry his friend quite yet.

Rukia frowned deeply, her violet eyes glowing brightly in the shaded moonlight. The red head had a point. Kisuke had a purpose for almost everything he did. His mind was constantly transforming and creating crazy inclinations and mysterious ideas. It was a well known occurrence among his close friends and companions. Urahara was a intelligent, profound, and slightly aggravating man.

The raven haired shinigami furrowed her eyebrows in deep thought, continuing to contemplate Ichigo's platonic observation. She looked up into the shrouded night sky, her heart beating calmly within her chest cavity. Urahara always had a reason. Always. What was it exactly? Why did it seem so tangible, lingering perilously on the tip of her tongue like a sickness? Why?

Suddenly, an idea struck her confused mind like a ton of tumbling bricks. Kisuke's reason had always been palpable. It had never been difficult to comprehend in the first place. Rukia smiled slightly, brushing a stray strand of ebony hair out of her face. Distant light from the moon struck her petite form like descending rain water, washing her fragile features in pale, radiant beams of translucent white. Various shadows danced across her pearly skin, mysteriously fading around her large violet eyes and nose. She prepared herself to speak.

"Kisuke Urahara is a highly knowledgeable individual. He sent us here to locate Yoruichi's spirit ribbon, correct? I mean, doesn't it seem obvious? Faint traces of her reiatsu should remain here. That very fact alone should help you, Ichigo. Those tiny traces of lingering spiritual energy should help you _find_ her spirit ribbon." Rukia stated confidently, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly in response to her sudden epiphany.

"Oh. Now that you mention it, that does sound rather strait forward." Ichigo mumbled, scratching the back of his head avidly. "Why didn't he just tell us that earlier?"

"I suppose Kisuke wanted to make our search a little troubling. After all, it would have been pointless to look for Yoruichi if we didn't actually have to figure_ something_ out."

The red head rolled his eyes and shook his his head fitfully. His hands were still placed deep within his unruly orange locks. His calloused fingers tangled and twisted around the colourful fibres roughly. "That man is an official moron."

Rukia had never seen a person mess with their hair as much as Ichigo did. His large fingers caressed his flamboyant orange spikes mercifully. The red head's actions cascaded numerous carrot coloured rays of light onto the grass below his slender feet. Over the years, she had come to understand all of Ichigo's odd twitches and nervous flutters of movement. At the moment, the teen happened to be flustered. Rukia scoffed loudly.

"Jealous? I obviously have a much larger brain capacity then you do. I wouldn't expect a child such as you to decipher one of Urahara's blatant mysteries."

Ichigo growled in annoyance. His brilliant rusty gaze swept over Rukia harshly. "A larger brain capacity, eh? I would never have thought _that_. Not with the size of your tiny head anyway."

The raven haired woman scowled and crossed her slim arms across her chest. "Stop changing the subject, you imbecile! Just admit it, I am right!"

The teenage boy laughed whole heartedly. His attention was briefly focus on the sky, which was slowly becoming a mind numbing black. "I would never do that, Rukia. Not in a million years."

A small grin cracked slyly across Rukia's face. It seemed to shed a beautifully brilliant light in the depths of the forest. The girl had to admit, her friend would never truly admit defeat to her. It was simply impossible and highly unlikely.

"Whatever." Rukia paused to get a better grasp of the situation. "I suppose you had better begin the process of locating Yoruichi's spirit ribbon. You did say that it could get quite difficult."

Ichigo sighed and scratched the back of his neck lazily. To tell the truth, the red head was not looking forward to using Reiraku. The process was a complete pain in the ass. He was glad that Kisuke had considered the trouble it would cause for him. It was nice that the man had found the place Yoruichi was last located. It made his task a hell of a lot easier.

"Okay. Look for areas submerged with traces of her spiritual residue. That way the whole technique is easier to preform."

The midget nodded, and began to rapidly observe the area with her dedicated stare. The woman was not merely looking out into open space. She was searching for something basically invisible to the untrained eye. The essence of another being. Yoruichi's to be exact. Rukia was peering around dramatically, attempting to find a familiar faded white glow.

She slowly strayed away from Ichigo's tall figure. Her small feet struck the moist grass softly, erupting the night in muffled sound. Rukia could detect crickets singing in the distance, their sharp peals of song loud against the quiet backdrop of night that surrounded her petite form. The air was cool against her warm skin. The faint scent of decaying leaves slithered slowly up her nose, nearly suffocating her. Rukia appreciated the evening, despite the ease in which every dark corner of her mind screamed otherwise.

She continued to stroll passively, following the faint white allure of Yoruichi's spiritual energy. Tiny clouds of reiatsu sprinkled the shrubbery around her like fairy dust. There was barely enough residue left in the area to even assume that Yoruichi had been there in the first place. Only bitter trickles remained, flooding Rukia's senses like a soft spring breeze. There was nothing she could do to help Ichigo. He would have to attempt the ritual with or without Yoruichi Shihoin's spiritual energy.

Rukia opened her mouth to speak, but Ichigo cut her off. He was standing several feet away from her, his hands out stretched hesitantly in the air. His handsome face was contorted sourly, as if he had recently tasted a rather unpleasant lemon. His elegant fingers quivered slightly, shaking in the cool evening air like a trembling old man.

"I know, Rukia. Her reiatsu is barely detectable. This is as good as it's going to get. I'll try though. I'll do whatever it takes." Ichigo's voice was a silent whisper.

The raven haired midget nodded calmly, her lips downcast in an expression of slight indifference. The red head was beginning to use Reiraku in an attempt to locate Yoruichi. Turbulent waves of spiritual pressure began to undulate off of the teen, descending harshly upon the mangled forest. Rukia could feel her resolve shatter as his power rapidly accumulated, caressing her soft skin. She inhaled a sharp breath, cringing violently.

Rukia could easily compare the red head's spiritual pressure to that of a running tap. It was never ending. Every living organism surrounding both Ichigo and Rukia cowered in fear. The trees rustled chaotically, shaking each expanding bout of spiritual energy out of their tresses. The grass waved wildly, bending over to comply to the ferocious breeze. The air grew warm with power. It thrummed intensely though Rukia's circulatory system, intoxicating every strained breath she attempted to consume.

Suddenly, something in the air changed. The wind thrummed harshly against Rukia's face like an icy wave of water, submerging her body in darkness. Ichigo's spiritual pressure was no longer as comforting as it usually was. Instead, it became worrying. Too much raw power emitted from the red head. A sick feeling of nausea gripped her stomach, threatening to spill over her restraints like flooding water. She could sense them. Hollows. They were coming.

Rukia's soul pager began to beep fervently. She bit back hysteric screams of worry. They were so _many _of them. Her phone continued to bleep coherently, each tiny blip of noise loud and searing. Rukia struggled to breathe, her heart beating violently against the fragile cage that contained it. Why were there so many hollows? What were they after? The answer was all too obvious. Ichigo.

"Ichigo!" Rukia screamed, holding her flashing soul pager high in the crackling air. "ICHIGO!" She cried again.

The red head didn't move. He didn't even twitch. He stood calmly in the clearing, defiantly powerful and alone. His head hung low, stray pieces of uncontrollable orange hair fell ceremoniously onto his face. His brown eyes were squeezed shut from concentration, the wrinkles on his forehead scrunched up brutally. A violent blue aura of light surrounded his lean form, engulfing every thing within a five metre radius.

Ichigo was too entranced. He couldn't hear a word Rukia uttered. He couldn't see her worried figure, shaking like a deceased autumn leaf. The red head was painfully oblivious to the world outside of his raging subconscious. Rukia swallowed deeply. They were coming. They were coming for Ichigo.

* * *

**Helloooo guys! This chapter was very gruelling to write. We found this especially irritating to write out, cause' we didn't want to bore you people to death. BUT, it had to be done. Some more information is dished out, of course. We just LOVE torturing your avid little minds! :) Cliff hangers are handy too... MUHAHAHA!**

**The stats for 'Death Is Not Goodbye' are extremely wonderful. Everyone reads this story... people simply won't give us feedback! None the less, we appreciate all of the interest in our fic! You guys are awesome! Special thanks goes out to:**

**TTY7  
CruxisRemnants**

**Please continue to read, guys. We're divulging into the juicier stuff soon. Just wait and see... Review guys! We would like to hear what all of you think! :P If not... we'll lock you inside of a room with Kenpachi! That sounds like fun...**

**~IronEclipse**

**-CrystalShardsOfRain**

**Disclaimer: We do not own Bleach! :(**


	5. Chapter 5

_'No one fights dirtier or more brutally then blood.'_  
_~Whitney Otto_

* * *

The night was dark. The night was unforgiving. It loomed overhead like a cavernous storm cloud. Deep, frightening, and threatening. The blackness gnawed at the stars and the moon. It ripped, clawed, and hacked away at the serene beauty of the sky. It consumed every shard of light in a hurried frenzy. The hunger of the night could not be quenched. It could not be interrupted or hindered in any possible way. The reign of night continued on, awaiting to be conquered by the warm pallet of day break.

Rukia hated the deep descending blanket of darkness that surrounded her form. Without the comforting hue of the sun on her shoulders, the world seemed threatening. She felt vulnerable, like a crumb of bread sprinkled unknowingly on a beach. That bread crumb would succumb to a fate worse then death. Sea gulls would peck at the measly morsel of sustenance, screaming their pleas for food.

Ichigo's orange hair was the only source of light in Rukia's receding vision. She held back the urge to run her fingers through his spiky tresses. The very notion sounded nonsensical and immature. It hurt her insides to admit it, for the longing to ambush his vibrant head was intriguing. Ichigo Kurosaki made the petite woman feel warm and safe. His crazy hair unleashed a torrent of light upon her body, eradicating her fear momentarily. He was the sun on her shoulders. He was her source of pride.

Rukia blinked a couple of times, continuing to wave her arm around sporadically. Her soul pager beeped loudly, proclaiming the presence of Hollows. Ichigo remained oblivious to her screams of worry. The only sign of recognition the red head displayed, was a mere twitch of his pinky finger. She was completely and utterly alone.

The raven haired midget bit her bottom lip fruitfully. She could taste blood on her lips. What could she possibly do? Ichigo would remain oblivious to reality until Yoruichi was located. There was no hope in attempting to end his pursuit either, for his spiritual energy had become too overpowering. Rukia could barely breathe. Each breath she inhaled stung severely. Trying to swallow oxygen felt like choking on gritty sand paper.

"Ichigo!" She cried, taking several steps towards his glowing figure.

The boy winced slightly, as if he was in pain. A small sliver of hope sprouted within Rukia's chest. Could he actually hear her voice? The fragile growth near her heart wilted. Ichigo's handsome features twisted uncomfortably again. His eyebrows were only furrowed from concentration. He couldn't detect her presence. He couldn't see her trembling form or the worried expression plastered across her face.

"ICHIGO!" Rukia screamed loudly. "ICHIGO!"

The raven haired girl tried to move her feet forwards again, but quickly changed her mind. She would have to fight this battle alone. The warrior would have to protect Ichigo during his time of distraction.

In frustration, Rukia scowled and clenched her fists. How much time did she have? In a panic, the midget glanced at her soul pager once again. The screen on the device glowed brightly in the darkness. Hundreds of red dots were surrounding the area. The hollows were clustered around the space like bees to honey. It was only a matter of time until one foul creature appeared.

Rukia growled and sent one last worried look in Ichigo's direction. She was going to strangle Kisuke if she ever saw him again. The store owner must have known that this was going to occur. Why didn't he say anything? Why didn't _she_ see this coming? Rukia should have known that Ichigo's energy was going to attract hollows. It was common sense. It should have been as clear as day.

"Alright." Rukia muttered quietly. "I am ready."

The raven haired girl took a deep breath and attempted to clear her mind. In thought, the shinigami tossed her soul phone lightly on the ground. Loud noises were still erupting from the device. The green sea of grass muffled the sound slightly. Rukia frowned and stared at her contraption angrily. She would have to retrieve it later. She was not going to deal with it now.

Rukia quickly blocked out the sound of her phone. Wind. It was the only thing her senses picked up on. The element tossed her dark locks around relentlessly. It shook every tree and brushed every strand of grass. In preparation, Rukia shifted her right hand towards the hilt of her zanpakuto. The wind may have held no warning, but the raven haired girl suspected something. It was far too quiet in the forest. Crickets and animals usually made music during the night. Not complete silence.

Rukia avidly watched as long strands of grass twisted violently against the wind. The sound the green fibres made was remote, like a long lost whisper. She could feel it thread through her hair like the fingertips of a ghost, playfully tugging random strands of ebony. In all honesty, Rukia found it very distracting.

The midget discarded the thought, grasping her zanpakuto tightly. Sweat was beginning to gather between her fingers, moistening her grip. The hilt of her soul cutter left diagonal imprints on the palms of her hands. Sode no Shirayuki was prepared for battle. She could feel her zanpakuto quiver from anticipation, eagerly awaiting spilled blood and violence. It seemed to be a continuous occurrence between the two of them, for they had faced many threatening things together.

The trees in front of Rukia began to shake abnormally, creating an applause of thrashing leaves. The petite shinigami narrowed her violet eyes to the point of pain, attempting to see past the dark masquerade of night. Loud scratches irrupted through the blackness, striking her eardrums like gun fire. Her imagination went wild, conjuring ghastly images of hollows clawing at random branches and bushes, stripping trees of their bark. However, her mental imaginings held an ounce of reality. She could sense them, mere metres away.

A sliver of movement captured Rukia's attention. She whipped her head around, her raven locks careening through the air in a black blur. Her eyes landed on Ichigo's helpless form. A wide halo of blue energy surrounded his body. It consumed the ground below his feet in a wide arc. It was a beautiful sight. A spectacular array of continuous power. It filled her vision like fireworks in a cloudless sky. She couldn't tear her eyes from the odd paradox.

Despite Rukia's dedicated stare, something else captured her vision. Something much more enticing then the red head's spiritual energy. An ugly hollow loomed over Ichigo. His body looked extremely minuscule compared to the monstrous creature. The hollow seemed to reject the moon light shining down from the sky. Darkness washed over the creature's gargantuan body like spilled ink. It's flaming red eyes pierced Rukia's soul.

"ICHIGO!" Rukia screamed, unsheathing her zanpakuto.

Sode no Shirayuki gleamed wickedly in the moon light, creating silvery patterns on the grassy terrain beneath Rukia's feet. The small death god bit her tongue. She stared at the hollow violently. Her heart hammered steadily against her rib cage. Within the security of her subconscious, Rukia berated herself. How could she have been so ignorant? How could she have been so blind? She should have known the Hollow's atrocious intent.

In a series of elegant movements, Rukia disappeared in a flash of shunpo. She was frightened. In order to properly protect and defend Ichigo, she would have to directly enter his personal bubble. The very inclination made her mind reel. She could barely stand the pressure of the teenager's spiritual energy. The cobalt aura that encased his body was tremendously powerful. The very force of it was enough to render her completely useless.

Rukia screamed as she forced herself towards the hollow. Time seemed to slow down as she drove her arms and legs through the energy Ichigo generated. The red head's spiritual pressure cascaded onto Rukia like a water fall. It caressed her skin like a lingering kiss. Her breath hitched in her throat. She could feel Ichigo's presence within her very soul. It took every ounce of concentration she possessed to continue moving forward.

The raven haired shinigami gasped as she lifted her zanpakuto high into the air. Her biceps screamed in protest. It felt as if molten lava was streaming through her circulatory system. It corroded her veins into liquefied mush. She could feel Sode no Shirayuki shake violently within her strained grasp. The blade shone an incandescent blue. She struggled against Ichigo's spiritual pressure, forcing her sword higher into the air.

Rukia pushed her feet off of the ground, throwing herself towards the hollow. She gritted her teeth, shifting her hands along the hilt of her zanpakuto for better leverage. She grunted, biting through her bottom lip as she attempted to thrust her sword into a wide descending arc. She was rapidly nearing the creature's face. Rukia sneered as her weapon came into contact with the hollow's hideous mask. The creature shrieked and reeled back in surprise.

Black blood gushed out of the entity's head in thick rivulets. It slid and pooled onto the ground like glue, thick with congealing chunks of ebony. Rukia grimaced and swiftly moved to the side as another glistening spurt of blood flew through the air. She had missed the hollow's mask.

_"Shinigami!"_ The Hollow hissed dangerously. _"How dare you cut me with your sword!"_

Rukia frowned as the hollow twisted its ugly form in her direction. A long shallow cut blazed a dark path across the Hollow's face. The creature was further away from Ichigo, but not by much. Rukia grimaced, a frown developing across her face like a wilted flower. The hollow had to die. It was the only solution she could fully register. After all, the raven haired soul reaper knew that more evil creatures lurked gruesomely in the shadows. She could sense them hiding among various trees and foliage.

_"Shinigami! Did you hear what I said!"_ The hollow growled.

Rukia looked up and sent an angry glare at the demon. Her violet eyes glittered darkly. If Ichigo had seen the expression, he would have certainly flinched in fear. It was a terrifying sight to behold.

"Yes. I heard what you said." The black haired midget stated blandly. "I don't care."

The hollow laughed crudely at Rukia's comment. It seemed to find great amusement in the woman's anger. Sadly, the warrior did not care for the creature's inappropriate display. Rukia was busy focusing on the sharp claws that decorated the demon's hands. They appeared to be the only threatening weapon on the Hollow, other then its jagged teeth. If she avoided the claws, her chances of eliminating the hollow would increase.

_"You seem distracted. Are you pondering your doom? Or the fate of this boy, perhaps?"_ The hollow said viscously.

Rukia sighed quietly. Her fingers gripped Sode no Shirayuki tightly. Blood slowly seeped through the narrow gasps between her digits, undulating down her wrists in streams. She was holding her Zanpakuto too harshly. She looked up at the masked creature, attempting to abolish Ichigo's handsome face from her mind. It was a difficult task. His presence nipped at her skin like a tyrant, focused on nothing but intimacy and irritation. She should have known better.

Rukia inhaled a sharp breath, pointing her blade at the Hollow. "Unfortunately for you, no. I'm questioning _your_ fate."

A hearty laugh slipped past the hollow's irregular teeth. The creature's flaming red eyes lit up brightly. Rukia narrowed her violet orbs, sliding her feet across the damp ground in a series of gradual movements. Her small legs were stretched shoulder width apart. She took the stance of a fighter.

_"Oh really? Be prepared to die, little girl. I'm not alone." _The hollow uttered mockingly.

Rukia tensed, lifting her soul cutter towards the evening sky. Stars dotted across the wide expanse of night like a blanket. It was a bittersweet sight to observe. She had witnessed the night sky in many ways, but nothing turned her heart cold the way a midnight battle could. It was then that she switched places with the stars, becoming nothing but a victim to speculation.

The raven haired shinigami disappeared in a flicker of shunpo, prepared to kill the Hollow. She struggled to inhale a proper breath of oxygen. Her throat burned as if she had swallowed an entire litre of bleach. The pressure of Ichigo's spirit energy was almost unbearable. Her shoulders heaved heavily, crumbling inwards like a temple cascading into ruin. Her legs shook violently. She could barely raise her zanpakuto off of the ground. It was as if Ichigo was attempting to disarm her with his spiritual pressure.

Sweat beaded across Rukia's forehead like water droplets on the surface of a cold cup. She released an exasperated yell, swinging Sode no Shirayuki towards the Hollow's ugly mask. Time seemed to stop again. Her movements were excruciating slow. Her blade sliced through the air lethargically. Rukia watched as the hollow's eyes lit up in surprise. The entity's jagged teeth caught the moonlight.

Rukia winced, caught off guard. The hollow smiled. The expression twisted the creature's features lifelessly, devoid of emotion. A sick feeling a nausea gripped her stomach as she watched the hollow sneer maliciously. Something was wrong.

Her eyes widened in realization. Rukia gripped her zanpakuto tightly, attempting to thrust the blade backwards. Her sword careened through the air like lightning, abolishing air molecules in a flash of silver. She was surrounded. She could see various hollows within the sheer reflection of her enemy's eyes. They loomed behind her back, prepared to cleave her body to pieces with their gleaming claws.

Rukia was too late. A strangled yell flowed through her lips as she was sent careening through the air. Thick turrets of blood poured out of her back. Her wound was ragged and torn, cracked open like a bleeding crevice. The black fabric of her shihakusho hung heavily across her shoulders, weighed down with the sopping dampness of her blood.

Rukia attempted to call out Ichigo's name again, but never got the chance. Her voice was quickly stifled by the sudden end to her fall. The black haired shinigami's body crashed into the branches of a near by tree. Bark and leaves licked her face as she fell downwards. The journey seemed to last a life time. When the woman's form finally hit the ground, she groaned and rolled over pitifully. Pain was the only thing Rukia could register. It traveled across her body in sharp jolts. The midget could honestly compare it to raw electricity.

_"Ha, ha, ha!"_ The hollow cheered crudely. "_It seems_ _as if you have been defeated. How pathetic. I suppose you will now become my next meal. Along with your friend of course."_

Rukia groaned and shifted her head sideways. She could not let herself fail. That dull creature should have been easy to demolish. It should have been simple. Bittersweet. How could she have possibly allowed herself to become so distracted? The raven haired shinigami scowled and winced. It was Ichigo's fault. The idiot was always causing trouble. Even if the teen was doing absolutely nothing.

"No." Rukia managed to whisper. Her voice was nearly silent. "I am not finished."

The hollow grinned and screeched playfully. The sound attacked Rukia's ears swiftly. It was a low noise that could easily be compared to death. It was dark, ugly, and simply cruel. It danced through the air like the wind. It tore at the skin on her bones and forced Rukia to squeeze her eyes shut.

_"Not finished? Really?"_ The creature paused to snort at Rukia's statement. _"If I don't kill you now, my friends certainly will!"_

Loud cheers and shrieks suddenly filled the air around Rukia. The raven haired girl shook her head slowly. She was not finished. She had more to offer to this battle. The woman would _not_ allow any deathly creatures near Ichigo's vulnerable body.

Despite her limbs protests, Rukia forced herself into a kneeling position. The woman groaned as she shifted her body slowly. Blood ran down her arms and neck in thick streams. Thin scratches decorated every inch of the girl's creamy white skin. The damage to Rukia's body was not yet life threatening. Every injury bordered on dangerous. She needed to be treated quickly. That very thought made Rukia move faster.

Rukia moved her arms in front of herself gradually. She locked her fingers together with a practiced ease. The small movement sent painful shivers down her arms. Rukia suppressed a whimper. The woman had an idea. It was simple and logical. It was the only way she could complete her battle.

"Ye lord!" Rukia shouted. Her voice was both sharp and rocky. "Mask of flesh and bone, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of man! Truth and temperance, upon this sinless wall of dreams, unleash but slightly the wrath of your claws! Hado 33, Sokatsui!"

A massive explosion of cerulean fire bursted from the palm of Rukia's hand. The occupied forest clearing erupted in flame, illuminating every blade of grass, twig, branch, and stone within a hundred metre radius. The jolt of energy flowing from the shinigami's small hand was exhilarating. Each lurch of spiritual electricity reverberated through every blood vessel in her body, intoxicating her mangled figure in a gush of power. Rukia was breathless.

The scent of burned flesh weaved through her nostrils like a wavering candle flame. Rukia blinked several times, lowering her twisted hands to the forest floor. Most of the hollows were dead. She could recognize their skeletal forms on the grass, bathed in black ichor. She could detect the acrid taste of hollow blood on her lips, evidence that her face was covered in the inky liquid. Smoke wafted through the night sky, obscuring the moon. She had done her job. She had protected Ichigo.

Rukia lifted her battered body off of the damp ground. Sode no Shirayuki dangled lifelessly in her right hand. The blade shone in the moonlight, devoid of blood. Rukia hissed between her teeth, effortlessly sliding her zanpakuto back into its sheath. The sharp clink of metal on metal eased her sour spirit. Rukia frowned, her features contorting into an expression of sadness. The sound of a sword brought nothing but ill will, in her eyes. A sword was a weapon for killing, nothing more.

In the distance, Rukia could see Ichigo. His orange haired glowed like a beacon in the darkness. His knees were bent slightly, caving inwards like a tumbling wave of water. Stray pieces of carrot coloured hair fell into his dark features. A tendril of worry grabbed at Rukia's heart like a hand. She clutched at her shihakusho desperately, clawing at the fabric as if she were gripping a handful of snow.

Was he alright? Rukia squinted her eyes in an attempt to fully see his face. His downcast appearance was bathed in shadow. The raven haired woman took several steps forward, her free hand outstretched hesitantly. Did a hollow wound him? Rukia released her tensed fingertips from the scratchy fabric of her robe. Her heart thumped madly against her ribcage.

"Ichigo!?" Rukia yelled, running towards the red head one step at a time.

Her feet struck the damp ground harshly. It seemed highly unlikely that the hollows had found the time to harm the red head. His spiritual energy would have warded them off, burning their pale skin like molten lava. She could feel it deep within her bones. Ichigo would be alright. He _had _to be. The very notion seemed extremely plausible. After all, Ichigo Kurosaki loved to fight. A mere hollow couldn't defeat him. The red head would do anything to protect his loved ones. Anything.

_"Going somewhere?"_

Rukia suddenly froze. Both her mind and body refused to cooperate with her movements. It was as if ice cold water had been dumped down her back. The sensation was absolutely horrible. It stole her breath and captured her heart in an evil embrace. The woman would not have been surprised if Captain Hitsugaya had stabbed her with his Zanpakuto, Hyourinmaru. The chill she was feeling could have easily come from him.

Soon, a complete feeling of dread replaced the icy coldness trailing down Rukia's spine. She knew that voice. She knew it like the back of her own hand. It was the hollow. The ugly creature she had attacked earlier. How could the demon have survived? The woman's kido skills were incredibly powerful. Even in a weakened state, Rukia could create a spell difficult to retaliate.

Rukia closed her eyes. The hollow was behind her. The creature's shadow polluted the ground in a sickly manner. It was tall and abnormally fat. If if was not for Ichigo's bright energy, the woman would not have noticed it.

In a panic, the petite shinigami rapidly lunged for her sword. Her slim fingers were inches from the hilt. Sadly, they never reached their destination. Rukia screamed as she felt the hollow's large hand grasp her torso. The creature's sharp claws prodded at her sides uncomfortably. They held her tightly, like a child with a prized possession. Rukia could do absolutely nothing. There was no possible way she could remove herself from the hollow's deadly hold.

_"Did you actually think you defeated me, soul reaper?"_ The hollow hissed angrily._ "You are weak! Worthless!"_

To emphasize it's point, the hollow squeezed Rukia in warning. The creature's pointed claws dug into her skin ruthlessly. Rukia cried out in absolute agony. Waves of pain crashed into all of her senses. She could feel fresh blood trickle down her back like warm tears. If the woman bled anymore, she was certainly going to fade into unconsciousness.

_"You shinigami think you are all superior, with your demon arts and petty sword skills. Well guess what? The wind carries change! The balance is shifting!"_

Rukia's heart suddenly sunk. It clattered to the bottom of her rib cage. Change? Balance? Those words rattled carelessly through her mind like a disease. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her ears throbbed sluggishly. High pitched peels of silence filled her throbbing cranium like gun fire. Rukia could taste blood in her mouth. She could feel sweat trickle down her spine like tumbling rain water. Her ears continued to ring. She remained completely stupefied, too shocked to fully comprehend the hollow's empty words.

"W-What? What are you talking about?" Rukia stuttered, struggling to breathe.

The hollow laughed. He squeezed her body tighter in his grasp, breaking several ribs. Rukia cried out in pain, biting through her tongue. A long stream of blood dribbled out through her clenched lips. It slowly undulated down her chin. Thick blobs of congealed crimson fell from her dirty face, tumbling onto the damp ground. The petite soul reaper gasped, attempting to reach the familiar hilt of her sword. She had to escape the hollow's grasp.

_"Ha! You mean to tell me that you haven't noticed? Where are all your little friends? Gone? Disappeared? The balance is shifting. You all are going to die! Let's start... with you!" _The hollow hissed, clenching Rukia to the point of unconsciousness.

Rukia couldn't scream. Her throat constricted painfully, strangling the yell caught deep within her larynx. Hot tears fell from her violet eyes, blurring her vision. They silently rolled down her cheeks in small streams, mixing into the dried blood on her face. The hollow's claws slid into her fragile torso, carving ruthlessly into her skin like a meat cleaver. She had failed. She was going to die. Rukia closed her eyes, picturing Ichigo's stubborn face. He would be furious with her. He would hate her. He would miss her.

Rukia opened her eyes violently, choking on her own blood. She couldn't die. She couldn't leave Ichigo alone. The thought tormented her mind relentlessly. He was nothing but a child. The red head was a detrimental substitute soul reaper. He fought with a vigour as timeless as the stars. He wielded Zangetsu in the name of his loved ones, instilling hope within the hearts of everyone Rukia knew. He was Ichigo. That fact was more then enough to set her raging thoughts strait.

Rukia attempted to touch the sturdy shaft of her zanpakuto with a revived sense of determination. She wiggled, squirmed, and shifted her hand despite the pain that overwhelmed her senses. Her wrist cracked loudly. She was breaking like a used automobile. She was falling apart.

"GETSUGA TENSHO!"

A sudden blast of vibrant blue light completely took over Rukia's vision. The woman didn't even have time to react. She did not have time to think. She shrieked as the hand holding her suddenly vanished within thin air. In reality, the raven haired girl's fall should have taken mere seconds. But to Rukia, it did not. Her tumble seemed to take hours.

The petite shinigami could feel the wind as it roughly caressed her black locks. She could see the stars overhead rotate, twist, and spin dramatically. She could count every drop of blood spiralling towards the forest floor. Rukia could taste tears on her tongue and the coppery flavour of crimson on her lips. She could feel pain weave its way into every crevice of her being. The world was fading into oblivion, and she completely refused to close her eyes.

Just as the grass came into focus, Rukia stopped screaming. She knew there was no point anymore. No point at all. As time passed, the midget realized that something was off. She was not sprawled lifelessly across the ground. She was not choking on her own blood and tears. The warrior was perched in a pair of tan, muscular arms. Her head was resting against the shoulder of a very familiar boy. A boy who was the cause of all this trouble. Ichigo.

Rukia sighed and groaned loudly. Ichigo's spiritual energy surrounded her protectively. It seemed to take away the shards of pain that pierced her body endlessly. The woman didn't know whether the teen knew what he was doing. Everything he did seemed natural. Perfect. Amazing. It was absolutely annoying.

"Rukia?" The red head asked softly. Concern was the only emotion filtering through his eyes. Luckily, he could not see the blood that completely covered the woman's small figure. That would certainly put the teenager in a panic.

Rukia muttered words quietly under her breath. She forced herself to meet his warm gaze. His brown stare melted through her flesh and pierced her bones. He looked completely fine. There was not one scratch on his strong body. He was in pristine condition. It was absolutely astonishing. Did the woman fight for nothing, or was she the reason for his good health? Had she actually succeeded?

"You... you... _idiot!_" Rukia roared. Her voice was quite loud considering her weakened state. "How long does it take to find a spirit ribbon! _Five damn hours!?_ Are you trying to kill me!?"

Ichigo frowned, his mouth twitching slightly. She knew he was holding back various insults. She could see it in the way his eyes gleamed in the moon light. His dedicated stare drifted from her filthy face, meandering across the forest clearing. He observed the tree line hesitantly, his jaw clenched tightly. He gripped her thighs harshly, his calloused thumbs digging into her resisting skin possessively. It took a moment for Rukia to realize that he was speechless.

"I... I'm sorry Rukia." He muttered silently after a few seconds.

The raven raven haired shinigami sighed. She should have recognized the lingering prospect of guilt in his eyes. She could see it clear as day, plaguing his features like a sickness. Her breath hitched dangerously in her throat. She should have kept her mouth shut. Ichigo was taking blame for her wounded condition.

"Moron... stop torturing yourself. God, you're so pathetic." Rukia sputtered unevenly, blood spurting through her lips.

Ichigo ripped his stare from the flaming forest line to look at Rukia avidly. He dipped his head down slowly, curiously inspecting her battered features. Several strands of his hair brushed against her face. Each flamboyant filament caressed her cheeks faintly. Every delicate sweep of his hair against her flesh felt like an indirect kiss. His breath tumbled across her stained lips sweetly, intoxicating the air she breathed. Ichigo's brow furrowed in concern.

"You're bleeding." Ichigo stated softly, his voice cracking. "You're... hurt."

Rukia rolled her eyes, suppressing the urge to cough. Blood continued to bubble through her swollen lips, dribbling down her chin in thick blobs. Ichigo was too close to her face. His musky sent overwhelmed her nostrils, seeping into her respiratory system like an unwanted drug. She could barely focus on his concerned voice. All she could feel was the warmth of his chest, and the reassuring thump of his heart beneath the palm of her hand.

"Get away... from my face..." Rukia slurred, exhaustion gripping her consciousness like a disease.

Ichigo ignored her. Rukia groaned loudly, gingerly reaching for the red head's face. Her small fingers connected with his skin softly. She splayed the palm of her hand against his cheek, pushing his head away from her grubby features. Her fingers obscured part of his nose and mouth. His flesh felt smooth against her calloused digits. He reeled back in surprise, flushing a deep shade of red.

"Did you find Yoruichi?" Rukia asked quietly, her voice equivalent to that of sandpaper.

Ichigo frowned again, his face downcast with sorrow. She had never seen anything like it before. Rukia knew the red head's answer. He didn't need to say it out loud, for she knew his response would be anything but joyous. The raven haired shinigami slowly retracted her fingers from Ichigo's face, falling into unconsciousness. He stared off into the distance, transfixed on an object she could no longer see. His search had been completely useless.

"There's nothing. Yoruichi... Yoruichi is dead."

Ichigo peered down at Rukia's broken figure. She had finally lapsed into unconsciousness. She had succumbed to darkness before listening to his retort. Her features were lifeless. Her pale skin glowed in the moon light, stained crimson from blood. Her black hair was tangled beyond recognition, twisted around the nape of her neck like a butterfly net. Ichigo silently mustered the courage to caress her cheek with the tips of his fingers. She was beautiful, despite her damaged condition.

"I'm sorry, Rukia." He muttered, tracing the curve of her jaw with the side of his hand. "I'm sorry for everything."

* * *

**Hello FanFiction! We both appoligize for updating 'Death Is Not Goodbye' two weeks late. We've been taking a bit of a break. School is starting up again unfortunately. We have two days left of summer before chaos consumes our time. It sucks, to be quite frank.**

**We would like to thank all of you devoted and curious readers for taking the time to view our story. It means a lot to us both. Special recognition goes out to:**

**X-Chick303  
BleachLover2346  
TTY7  
chasingdragondreams  
Irishmate  
Star fire girl 788  
davidturnerhxc  
**

**You guys are freakin' fantastic! Please continue reading everyone! We appreciate every view we recieve, and every suggestion placed before our eyes. Feel free to PM us if you guys have any questions! Feedback would be wonderful too... so REVIEW! :P Until next time!**

**~IronEclipse**

**-CrystalShardsOfRain**

**Disclaimer: We do not own Bleach! :'(**


End file.
